CottoN SequencE

They said:" it's Pre-school, primary school, then high-school
Degree your mom's, then get to looking for that job."
But you running outta luck, with a board, on the sidewalk
Sunscreen on, the harsh sun provokes, the blackman some more.
Another one is poured by more shells and more.
Community is sore, the poverty get more.
The government is sure, that the grant money given to moms, kids, the old,
An act to free the poor, while the tax man sweating the Rands, through his pores.
Said the fat hand of the taxman, seeking more...
Revealed overtime, we pay for no lights.
The black on black wars, black boys be color blind. The palette done fell down, so too the black crown, so back, to the ground
And Back, to fields
I call it the cotton sequence.
Tryna reach ears, I'm talking to all tiers of life, all ears.
I say it with no fear, I'm fed up it's unfair.
I'm fed up, unreal.
The plan, in plain sight is hidden from yall eyes. The plan, supply chain for Slaves, conveyer belt for waste, to implement a plague to devastate the mindset of blooming.
Fighting yourselves and then go fighting
For the position of manager, a passenger on route, to the darkness of passages
With no way back!!!!