[Ayesha Jaco:]
Drill music, pop that pill music
Kill music
Desecrating the temples and the ghetto
Funeral processions increase their frequency
Because we can’t break the spell of Geppetto
No one knows
And scrolls of obituaries contain more words than dictionaries
That will define how lions in Zion became alley cats
Who traded their baseball bats for gats that spat
Blood of the people across steeples and concrete jungles that turn playgrounds into graveyards
That buried generations of black and brown men who left their post because they were misguided by ghosts in the land of the living
Ready, aim, fire
Wanna be the block but can’t buy the block
Bulldozin’ the block, makin’ the Red Sea choke on bones
Of drones sent by PPP loans to see how you spent the money
Left, left, right, left
To figure it out while the ancestors watch and aid those who call out to them
Through altars, pay phones, saxophones, bottles of liquor, glasses of water
The sum of a son and a daughter equals new life, the holy trinity
He was a baby boy but he was kin to me
Born to Basimah and the hands of the lion who said “Store your water in the basement because one day, it would be scarce and polluted”
He said “One day, grocery stores will be bearing”
“Learn how to grow your own food and don’t get caught staring down the barrel of a gun”
“Learn how to run underground drills in Zion”
To be reborn let’s you be scorn by the ways of the wicked who pillage our communities and natural resources for profit
He said “My children, each of you are prophets”
Don’t let money be the sum of your deeds
Pull the weed from your mind
Look to the front, the side and behind
You each have blades that will drill a new earth
Manifest the new world that Columbus thought he found
Band together to reverse the weather to unite the seeds of the oppressed
Stand together and work righteously to be blessed
For generations to come
Drill down, Zion is in you