Jim Carey isn’t the only one we know who got rich wearing masks.
I’m like a young MalcolmX by any means necessary,
Except not religioned up.
Sunday your day of rest following Pastor while slave master’s commence with laughter,
Making them cherish and obedient to the White man an easy task.
Praising and preaching the word not of our ancestors,
But you undoubtedly drink from their overflowing damned cup.
The words of scripture contradict almost unbelievable,
Something like a myth,
But sleep to your inner god a spiritual clash.
They never had good intentions for us from the African shores to the blood soaked plantations,
So Christianity can you honesty trust?