Species of Property

[Intro] Everything is alright, everything is okay Everything is alright, everything is okay, okay Watcha gonna do with that beat, watcha gonna do with that beat Watcha gonna do with that beat, watcha gonna do with that beat [Verse 1] They’re telling me that the body is free But we’re the species of property They hit the niggas with them hidden fees They hit them niggas like a timpani They telling me that my body is free But we’re the species of property The popo still gotta follow me While I wear my sneakers and a cotton tee Everybody’s gotta play to win Lowered down to my shade of skin They’re trapping out at the Days Inn And you’re all thumbs, you’re all thumbs Decorative African skull full of olive pits and wine corks Own my judge and high court and you’re all hung You’re all hung, you’re all hung Yeah, whoa [Verse 2] When you end up getting capital The cobwebs in your shadow Gotta dabble with your nerve center When your life is T-rated And you’re feeling isolated That’s when you become a bird letter I’m a [?] eating asparagus tips while obscuring that money pit You would [?] return to the center with your surname ‘Honeydip’ [?] that high society ride-along But what do we own, I get deboned so I bemoan that cyber song This [?] is more than the underscore, is inebriated at the oven door With a sputtering core chanting, “nigga we did it, nigga we did it” [Hook] They telling me that the body’s free,but we the species of property The popo gotta follow me while I’m wearing my sneakers and a cotton tee They’re telling me that we’re not free, but I’m the species of property They got my essence under lock and key, no no you’re mistaken not me Not me No no, you’re mistaken not me Yes you Yes you [Outro] My son asked me what a nigger was, and if I was one was he one too? It would have meant to be of niggerstock How can we define this nigga that we resemble Or are qualities lost in the abstraction of prayer Did we become or were we always this, and what was this? Where did the border between us and the world merge? No one knows Thankfully we do know the storms that forge the idea the definition is uninterrupted The nigga is the variable The nigga is the unknowable A mislabeled parcel of human electricity Prehistoric in form, beyond time and essence I wrote that for Baltimore