Ferguson. The streets of Ferguson already torn apart by murders and crimes offers no pardon or reprieve from the Negro Crime Waving sweeping across America. With impunity the thousand Negro fanatics hit the streets and then the shots were fired. Full of guilt and folly the heavy gun fire in Ferguson erupts, they called it a firefight. The individual Negro supremacy over life, law and property pulled the trigger, some may know him, you should read his story.
The Tragedy of Ferguson MO Negroes
and Barack Obama.
You didn't get the job because you're a Negro.
You got the gun because robbers have tools just like carpenters.
You didn't get the good bank loan interest rate because you're a
Negro.
The bankers are malicious, stealing everything, war on blacks.
They won't let you walk down the middle of a busy street, because
you're a Negro.
The White Man Laws keep you limited and on Welfare.
They flunked you out of History because you're a Negro.
You don't need a book about slavery, slavery gives you rights.
You're never getting the White Man part because you're a Negro.
The slaveowners are in government and they only protect their own.
Even though you know for sure that you're a lot better than the
other guy that got the job your convinced the color of your skin kept you on
the outside. It's always been that way, from the slave day, on your knees, begging for food and water so everything you do is in retaliation for something that never happened to you.
It had nothing to do with your Facebook postings talking about
drugs, guns and killing White people, it was because you're a Negro. You plan on bombarding Facebook and you want to be known as one of the ones - that fight, because you're a Negro.
Bitterly you walk the streets at night, with that little man
pistol tucked in your jeans making sure nobody calls you a Negro, even though
you're a Negro. You will shoot the Confederates with that rebel flag even though you flunked history, you know the real story that the White man never teaches.
You enjoy the sportin' life playing with the young Negro girls on
the street, always having time to spit on the cop car maybe even toss a rock. Like a sledge-hammer you plan to strike when the time is right and their relentless army of cops line up just right.
You have no future plans, you left high school in tenth grade to
pursue your street dreams that's left you broke with a criminal record. You have children around town but you're sure
you'll never pay child support because no job means no money. You'll never surrender to the White Cop, with breathless haste you try to wait for the cops to make a mistake, maybe take their own shot.
Notoriously you walk around the town like you own the place and
you only have three dollars in your pocket, the money you stole from your
mother last night. She works all the
time for accommodations but befitting your status as an artist you painted her
living room wall with gang stuff, bright colors and blood dripping.
You have paved the way to your economic success by eating food
provided by food stamps and living in section eight housing and punching
numbers on your free cell phone while inviting your friends over to your
mothers place and drinking beer and smoking pot all day.
You want to be the leader but the other Negro is tougher so you
try to toughen up and you're enjoying a White girl in ninth grade that turned
her back on her parents just like you did.
You've been living this dream, the fantastic idea that you can be
a criminal and a success at the same time.
Your fantastic lie is based on the White Man keeps you down and the
White political machine won't bring about equality of income or a fast car.
You watch the White world of physicians, scientists and
politicians but in your heart you know that you will disappear into the prison
system some day, another missing human, it's because you're a Negro.
Your mother told you to stay in school but you resented her then
just like you disrespect her now, she doesn't understand your struggle, she's
not a real Negro.
She didn't know about the street struggle, the gang and the
survival pistol tucked in his pants, hidden from the law by his t-shirt.
She told you that your hard work and abilities and job training
would cross any racial lines but you had no time for vocation school, even
though it was free.
It had to be because you're a Negro.
You saw those lighter hued Negroes make it, homes and cars but you
refuse to work for the White man, you would never cross over to the White side,
it was because you're a Negro.
Barack Obama told you that you should shout out and be heard and
stand your ground but he was from Harvard, he wasn't a real Negro. Barack Obama was that grim street joke always
rubbing elbows with the rich White Man, playing black.
You have deluded yourself, because you're a Negro.
You are a Negro and you're filled with Negro blood.
You sat on your mothers couch and watched your White girl strip to
the waist and bared her breasts like you ordered her to do.
You took a picture of her and posted it on Facebook because a boy
with a gun was a man and a boy with nude photo of a White bitch is a sensation.
No, enough is not enough, you're a Negro and the bitch was your
showgirl so you started pimping her nightly, because you're a Negro. You take her downtown and let them spend
money on her because you need the cash.
You like the idea of White Entertainment as her legs and hips
brought in cash that you always unfairly kept, because you're a Negro.
She could have been a clerk or a school teacher but you allowed
her the rightful place on the streets with you because she was really living
now.
It's because you're a Negro, the insanity of
you, you are the master now.
