Lyrics The Wound Feat. Blitz The Ambassador - Akua Naru

Oh yes

Yo, I rose from the wound of the poem
These words the first fruit of the zone
No question who [?], uh
Found myself in Cologne, the journey ain't no mystery, uh
Witness the magic, the marriage of flow physically
Walk the globe plottin' to overthrow white supremacy
Fast-forward centuries, daughter of modern history
My wounds braided in [?] of misery
Separated the first slave from mothers' memory
Centuries pass, I flash back, it still cripples me, uh
[?] spins the vicinity
Time pass, spit from this wine glass to tell my story vividly
Rhythm swing, the blues, Bo Diddley
Narrative like Sophia, picture it, Sicily
Battle imagery, fictions that TV writes [?]
Another industry ready to bitch, ho, nigga me
Riot in the verse, my soul hurts, it's killin' me
Bloodstain the page, my pen rage the penalty
The new cover of Jet Magazine, '08
Celebrated victories, now race play's invisible
Institutional change cleaned from the periphery
Agenda unchallenged by so-called black Kennedy
I don't ask much, but when evolution comes
Y'all remember me
(Yeah)
Remember me

Ambassador, Akua Naru, check, uh
How you listen to the radio claim hip hop is dead?
How you boycott Kress, drink Henny instead?
Why can't [?] fit it in the club
When the DJ said he rockin' Drizzy in the club?
How you sellin' CDs and call it a mix tape?
Why we still buy the source? Of course the shit's fake
[?] in each song
How you talk about conflict diamonds for the Jesus peace on us?
Like, sisters love the record, 'specially when it's dissin' 'em
Driftin' [?] Public Enemy [?]
Thirteen years, still no Pac or Big killers
Record labels still reapin' 'em like they still with us
How the hell did dumbin' it down become cool?
Ten dudes on the stage, we can barely hear you
And you all sold crack, but got a time to write
Yo, I'm so pure black, most of my fans are white
Heal our wounds, y'all
We need some healin', yeah
What it is, ha, what is is
Heal our wounds, y'all