Nawathinkawafuh! (Uh! Ah!)

Nawathinkawafuh! (Uh! Ah!)

Nawathinkawafuh! (Uh! Ah!)

I said this nut might kill us!

I see a pinhole yo

and the goal is your soul that I’m fishing fo’

wishing fo’ a Marlon boat

slowly rigging the sails,

got a hold of his coat tail

and lift the back

so I can jack in a Gyllenhaal crack

transmit the facts

and fill a Ledger with info, and then go

back to the future

we can double your pleasure

hit the button, pull the lever, whenever

trouble the water with bubbles

it’s a Yemaya seminar

clever endeavoring, weathering, bettering

sever the tethering

from this world to the next

lucky to duck it so get to flexing the metasex

(‘cause I like you, you Black like me)

get in the back like me

when they ask for three I.D.

Ya see the DDC and the AZT

You me and he

And the future that might be

a medicine song

I know you faking cause you taking too long

Chorus 2x

In the backs of cars, on the backs of trucks

In the back for ours, all the snacks and sluts

I’mma tighten you up, then I’mma tighten you up

You say you frightened of what?

but now it’s griping your gut,

and got you wiping your butt

they been typing it up, they got a ‘scrip for us

we in the gifted class

said he was smarter than the average bear

so the damage barely missed his ass

‘til the next time, sex in the next rhyme

filled to the hilt with that survivor guilt

and then the tea got spilt

you see how he got kilt

the pinball tilt, the end of the game

the quilt with the name

the wall of fame

the shame and the blame (Hey!)

his aim was hella true

but then it came with the flu

and there was no way they could know

until it came into view

‘cause seeing grapes

was the fate, and the tale of the tape

and hit the clinic

while he dying Mama trying to spin it

Chorus 2x

Bridge (4x):

time to get ill/so we swallow that pill

(4x):

This nut might kill us/this nut might kill us

Hotel, motel stay on the scene

No fats, no femmes, no space in between

A Dinge Queen, Snow Queen, Muscle Queen preens

Mirror-Mirror, tell me that you seeing what I seen

You like it how I mike it, and you want me on your team

The cream, the triple beam, cooking up a scheme

The streets is on fire with desire for the gleam

The queers at the piers for some ‘you know what I mean’

Elohim and my Baba Ibrahim in the dream

The rookies and the hookers steady cooking up a scheme for the peen

Essex in the message with the lesson to redeem

Look me up, I’mma see you in the steam

we getting Buck

Chorus 2x

Outro (3x):

I strive to be strong

til the end of the song

Can you feel us?

The violence of the silence just might kill us

(I can feel it)

(I can feel it)

(I can feel it)

J to the Igga! B to the Izz-ooh! Finga the trigga! swing with the sickle!

D to the Ev-eye! E to the Ev-ill! Hit like a semi! he come to level!

ten thousand men named George will forge ahead

so know that he was born

to swell a pumpkinhead, and dead

curse a hellzapoppin’ allotment,

proppa-doppa, sloppy like a Burger King Whopper

poppin’ shots at Dorsey’s Locker (you got it!)

Great Migration to northern states,

loans, and fates unknown

moans that droned on and kep’ on goin’

find that hair-rhein binds minds, the nod of gods

hundred sixteenth time sign (and finding the rod!)

and looky dat dere, you watch out now,

the boom-boom-pow, the what-when-wow, the kak-kat kow

A Night Train to Terror (errybody got something to do!)

Tomorrow, we hit Scottsboro (for luggage and umbrage)

this bile is bilin’ in ya stomach and we plummet the tonnage

droppin’ weight and feelin’ great

it’s feeling spacious, these acres

all the Herbs at the curb,

Cap’n cappin’ all the fakers

and the racists donkey-brayin’,

but the paper’s sayin’

Chorus (1x):

Word! I though you knew, it’s cause the devil’s due

Yea It’s certain you goin’ learn today

Cuz it’s curtains, you ain’t skirtin’ all this hell to pay (and say)

Worse! it hurts, this truth, It’s cuz the devil’s due

Yeah, just wear it, cause you fits dat shoe

Word! I thought you knew

Here come the devil, he’s come to level

Here come the devil, he’s come to level

(Here come the devil!)

Pre-verse (2x)

You see him keep it holly-jolly

Follow Cholly to the sleepers he creepin’,

Miss Molly hollers, J acknowledge her beeping

and keep her company, go fluff up her pillows,

then bring her sweetmeats,

and turn up the sheets to get her neat,

(and wipe the fog off the windows…)

and his emission’s complete,

but it’s a long train comin’, and a feat to compete

in the street, D catch the beats

and like to stir with the bird

he keep it workin’ and you prayin’

for the end of the verse

and you can hear him sayin’

Chorus (1x)

Bridge:

JD’s our hope and scream, Red Black and Green

and though the skies be gray with lies

that hide the truth

we’ll come through hell

with bells that knell, our Devil’s due

that yell that Weldon spelled,

that stony road we knew,

and though the lies, they fly

from Ofay’s eyes of blue

they’ll take this L

come shots and shells of Jigaboo

they’ll take this L

come shots and shells from Jigaboo

Haww Stick it, Fuck it, Do it, Swing it

Stick it, Fuck It, Do It, Haww

how you gon' work it baby baby?

maybe keep it on lock

you the master, move it faster

flashing Average Black Cock

he be managing the damage

with a sausage cuz they famished

and they clamor for the Unforgivable

from Liverpool to Shinjuku

to North Lawndale, Ninety-Fifth and State

among the ways I get paid

Is when I raise my rate

(it costs me to live, gifts that I give, stick to your ribs)

with misters on a mission

wanna slob at Nob Hill

where the bootyfinger lingers

and a ringer gives a thrill

but I got no chill

though it leaves me kinda cold

how they stutter at the other

and the brother’s getting old

and the truth be getting told

In the booth where we boosting gold

when we sold to America and scaring ya

(shaking my pants. Like how I dance, this is your chance...)

to swing it

Chorus 4x:

Juba:

where can I/find a man like you

To chew thru, brew and poppers

Lynnee:

sloppy your approach I’ll coach, take notes

we’ll stop the clock at 10 to 2

cause time is just a concept

wreck it to the hourly

dicking for a nickel?

better better bet for me’s a shower scene

one and done, dabba do it, Fluid intuit,

getcha back I'mma stack up

cuz I’m knowin'' dat

(way to get paid, spraying the ‘naise

‘fraid, and you skurred)

cause you begging for pegging

like a dicking with a Doc

is just a stop before some regular legging

ass-wrecking and reckon, record time to finish

I be grantin’ all your wishes, your emissions diminish

winning hustle Is the mussel

from a shell that knells

Banquo for hoes and all the stones that tell

I’m givin’ hell

(a tale of a sale, king of the slang, ding-a-ling-sing)

when the meaty meat gets to swing

Chorus 4x:

Bridge (4x)

(Lynnee/Juba alternating)

You’re Satisfied! (You’re satisfied!)

Outro:(4x)

(Juba/Lynnee):

swing in your area

(cuz I’m the one to hit it)

you know I’ll take care of ya

(you got come and get it)

swing in your area

(you know I’m getting on it)

you know I’ll take care of ya

(because you know you want it)

Lynnee Breedlove:

and you’re watching the ducks

floating on Stone Lake

post-fuck bliss

after Meatswinga done served you up

and all the ghosts of the dead boys

be floating round your head

in their Daisy Dukes

after you got what you paid for

cuz you hella rich

you gentrifying son of a bitch, yeah

you can afford the very best in dick

and that’s why you call the Meatswinga

la la lee lah la la la la la

that’s the thoughts left in your little brain

it was '82,

me and my girl we did it one time,

said I love you, moved in together.

that's how you did.

never considered people might think an interracial couple was something.

we were in that love bubble, and it was Oakland.

full of black people and white people. no big.

'83 we moved to another hood in Oaktown, an apartment building.

still stood out as the black and white dykes.

still didn’t care.


driving her 64 chevy pickup, I heard this pornografalsetto song

and thought, whoa, who's this chick getting so personal on the radio. 


then the DJ said, "that was prince singing Do Me Baby,"

and I said oh shit I need to pay more attention to this genderfucker.

we moved to the white neighborhood.

still standing out. still not caring,

but I think it started to wear on us a little, specially her. 


being the only white dyke in a black hood

was different than being the only black dyke in a white neighborhood.

'84, my best friend from hi skool told me he was positive.

I got off the phone and broke down. 
I

sat in the living room that year

under the Gone with the Wind spoof poster

of Thatcher and Reagan with the mushroom cloud in the background.

watched Mad Max, Brother From Another Planet,

Liquid Sky, The Hunger, Christiane F, and Sid and Nancy,

6 times each before returning them to the video store.

drank a million Buds and Slip n Slid with our pals in our wifebeaters

and mirrored cop shades before they became wife pleasers.

we most definitely weren’t wife beaters

beating the hell out of each other over a freebase pipe.

sat in front of Grandma's converted TV console,

high lacquer cherrywood cabinet full of records and a turntable. 


drank myself silly to Howlin' Wolf and Lightnin' Hopkins,

and Gil Scott and Suzie Quatro and the B52s. 


for hours, listening to Prince's Controversy,

turning the album cover over in my hands,

analyzing. did he really mean it?

did he love us that much?

was he really saying this?

(****)

"Am I black or white, am I straight or gay?..


People call me rude, I wish we all were nude


I wish there was no black and white, 


I wish there were no rules…"

we were all alone in a world where Christians wanted us dead,

but there was Prince, coke and whisky and Starfish and Coffee

and Let's Go Crazy and Jack U Off and Annie Christian

and Purple Rain, a cult crossover hit,

and Under the Cherry Moon, panned by critics,

but he could do no wrong,

and ruffled shirts and romance and femme dykes onstage,

his spittin' image, girl versions of him,

a narcissist dream of straight acting queers fucking the mirror

like there might be something going on,

just like us and our pals, brown and black and white,

fags n dykes passing joints at the disco,

sexy even if there was a plague, one big cuddle party.

it didn’t feel lonesome.

it felt right and like motherfuckers better make room for us

because if they didn’t, we were coming through anyway,

led by the most fearless, least fucks-giving motherfucker on the planet

with all the moves and a voice

that could go from girl to boy in a second.

if he wasn’t intimidated, neither were we.

'89, me and my records got tossed on the street

cuz I got high and everyone was mad.

2016 I’m ashamed now more than I was that day,

because when I look to pay homage to the man,

I gotta go on the internet like some kinda poser,

cuz I never bought new Prince records.

the night after he leaves us, it's a full moon.

I put on When Doves Cry, but it keeps stopping in the middle

because everyone in the world is playing it

becuz somewhere along the line we all lost our records.

the clouds are all over the moon.

she’s real big behind that cloud cover, I can tell.

I light the candles and say,

Come out, you gotta call him home.

and the clouds part, and I say,

I’m sorry Prince. I lost the records.

I’m sorry. it's not that I ever stopped loving you.

I just thought you’d always be there.

Mykki raps wrath to men condescending

how they’ll pay her (‘EM)

“This ain’t a hobby!”

calls us to her (‘EM)

“Circle up circle up,”

Tales from the periphery

a hymn of stolen property.

balls of lightening shoot out her hands

at a history of bastards.

what’s the deal with pronouns.

why align with fuckheads.

times like UsToo why choose this team

of not so righteous dudes?

to be as in a life briefly recalled

as we squoze down the long hall

holy said Ginsberg

are those between worlds.

be exceptions.

straighten the rest out.

Hey you guys, I mean friends

this way to humanity!

model correct behavior,

change other men?

someone’s gotta.…prolly Them.

in the OG sense they

were the enemy

as in them …Against Me!

Then They became Us

Guided by guts

we went

From

punks

to old dykes—

1 tran, 2 trans

they! bold leap out of binary bins.

-pronouns? refuse em

-Make up some

Shake up cis-tems ascribed to parts and

Confuse ‘em.

girls are so cool.

sometimes I wish I was one.

men get free tickets to everything

professional sports? tom of finland?

that’s hot.

I'm more like a mascot.

hey you guys,

I mean people….

pronoun showdown with

the guy at home depot

he don’t know

sir ma’am sir

spotlight on me now.

whole store is staring

-what now

Mykki Blanco

once said

my trans journey’s who I am.

abandon us fugitives?

Naw

you stand with us,

let us see into the mutable deep,

you free us.

They say

explain yourself.

-tired of educating.

I would claim They themself

if we’re gonna go plural

how bout the royal We?

-I was never a king.

what’s in your boxers?

none-ya

Like Drew from Trap Girl,

N Star Amerasu,

we’re hawking

truth loogies

into the mouths of babes

Like birdies waiting

at the foot of stages

-We got drawers fulla rage

—that’s what

now Mykki Blanco,

lead us out.

we’re bleeding out.

jack H covered masculinity.

it’s all toxicity.

“I wanna be like Mykki.*

fingers splayed, wrist cocked,

mic stand flung across

shoulders, classic Cooper Lee

galvanizing

tucked/untucked,

won’t be androgenized,

fucked, unfucked.

-you instruct us:

We must protect black children.

We must protect black trans women.

eradicate prisons.

still need Abolition.

race me, full of grace,

embrace,

show up for our own ass,

goddess incarnate.

*Dare us.

Call our manliness toxic.*

we’re the beloved who loves you,

reason for all moves.

throw us skyward, trust.

-you’ll land in the midst of us