Brother J - Funkin' Lesson lyrics

[Professor X] Freedom or d**h, we shall all be moved Vanglorious This is protected by the red, the black, and the green With a key, sissy! [Brother J] Abracadabra Allah baby, professor All hail Funkin' Lesson Sweet tongue, grand writer of scrolls Now behold, let the legend unfold Born in a cosmos, with no time and space to exist Vibe in the midst of the chaos Mortals label me as illogical, mythological They couldn't comprehend when I brought the word A stick called verb, a black steel nerve Teaching those actors and actresses Who write a couple of lines on what black is, really? Then they label me a sin When a brother just speaks what's within I guess I'm blacker than the shadow in the darkest alley That they're always scared to go in, boo! I wear boots and beads, bags and braids Stick and scrolls, rings and shades Walk in the light of the moon but I've never been a Batman African call it Blackman Brother extracts your African steps in your movements Enhance for improvements Grand funk, a new home for the phrase Funkin' Lesson the pathway [Brother J] Let me tell you about blackness Grits and cornbread how can you act this? I exist on a plane, where the jar is my brain I'm living to retrieve self Antenae my stick Picture bigger, made of liquor, figure The pull of the trigger goes zoom not boom Not a bunch of sissies, but saviors, braver The red, black, and green Is just so much more than red, black, and green You ask what I mean But yet the sundial shades on lights and dreams Watch too late, oops, upside your head! You drop through abyss like lead Where you going? What's your speed? What's your pleasure? What's your need? Trees and branches, roots and seeds Forwards, backwards, many degrees Questions, answers, what's the sum? We have come [Professor X] Out of the darkness in panther skin comes doctors Driving pink caddies Bearing the remedy to your existence Yes, it gets blacker, with a Nat Turner lick Martin, Adam, Malcolm, Huey There's a party at the crossroads [Brother J] I returned from the stone crib Bringing verbal milk, a stool, and a bib Be filled of the black sap, from the tri-womb It flows freely un-attuned Wheat bread, tasty jam Come take a stroke to the rhythm of the Grand Verbalizer coming from the temple of void Crown from a hat, man from a boy Onwards ride as I talk of Ra Converse with Horus, create with Ptah I ride with Geb to roar with Bast Aten to Mut as I ride the raft Roof of the world I sit, crosslegged, right over left Drums of dance to drums of war Who knows the score? Speak no more Who watches down with the eyes of black? To the east blackwards [Professor X] Sissy! Sissy!