Last Poets Two Little Boys
Have you seen the skinny little boy That Chases the white ghost at night? Face puffed Up/tracks in his arm and his mind blown His momma Somwhere drinking And talking about survival Pop's In jail or downtown at the Y The little boy Chases the white ghost with his friend And they get HIGH/and they get HIGH Like cloud nine Where Everything is fine
Have you seen the two little boys Running past you With a lady's purse? They stole a Black woman's purse The other Day Yesterday/today/tommorrow Face puffed up Tracks in their arms Eyes popping Out of their skulls And their minds blown And They get HIGH/and they get HIGH Talking about Tripping, talking bout flyin Talking bout getting HIGH (getting HIGH)
Have you seen two little boys sitting in Sylvia's Stuffing chicken and cornbread down their tasteless mouths? Trying to revive a dying heart Shrinking lungs and wasted minds Have you seen the sickness of our people?
And all the while we parade around In robes of our Ancestors And wisdoms of the universe And all the while there are children dying Chasing the white ghost Whitey is dying and his f..cking ghost is killing us
Oh beautiful black hands Reach out and snatch the Death out of the youth of our nation
Oh Beautiful black minds Create, create the world for Children to play with life And not with death Oh Beautiful black brothers and sisters Come together and create life Come together and create love Come together and create, create Come together and create, create
