Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Expansion Outro, artist - Reflection Eternal. Album song Train Of Thought, in the genre Поп
Date of issue: 31.12.2001
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Rawkus Entertainment
Song language: English
Expansion Outro |
Yeah… so we got this tune called «Four Women» right |
Originally it was by Nina Simone, and uh |
She said it was inspired by, uh, you know, down South |
Down South they used to call her Mother Auntie |
You know, she said no «Mrs.», you know, just Auntie, y’know what I’m sayin' |
And uh, she said if anybody ever called her Auntie she’d burn |
The whole God damned place down, y’know what I’m sayin' |
But you know, we’re moving past that, y’know what I’m sayin' |
Coming into a new millenium, can’t forget our elders |
I got off the Two train in Brooklyn, on my way to a session |
Said «Let me help this woman up the stairs» before I get to steppin' |
We got in a conversation, she said she a hundred and seven |
Just her presence was a blessing, and her essence was a lesson |
She had her head wrapped and long dreads that peeked out the back |
Like antenna to help her to get a sense of where she was at |
Imagine that, living a century, the strength of her memories |
Felt like an angel Heaven sent to me |
She lived from nigga to colored to negro to black to afro |
Then African-American then right back to nigga |
You’d figure she’d be bitter in a twilight, be she aight |
Cause she done seen the circle of life |
Yo, my skin is black like it’s packed with melanin |
Back in the days of slaves she’d be packin' like Harriet Tubman |
And, my arms are long like she moves like a song |
Feet with corns, hands with calluses but the heart is warm |
And, my hair is wooly and attract a lot of energy |
Even negative she gotta dead that the head wrap is a remedy (and) |
My back is strong she far from a vagabond |
This is the back the master’s whip used to crack upon |
Strong enough to take all the pain that’s been inflicted |
Again and again and again and again and then flip it |
To the love for her children, nothing else matters |
What do they call her, they call her Aunt Sarah |
I know a girl with a name as beautiful as the rain |
Her face is the same but she suffers in unusual pain |
Seems she only deal with losers who be using them games |
Chasing the real brothers away like she confused in the brain |
She try to get in where she fit in on that American Dream mission |
Paid tuition for that receipt to find out her history was missing |
And started flippin', seeing the world through very different eyes |
People asking her what she’ll do when it come time to choose sides |
Yo, my skin is yellow it’s like the face is blonde |
Word is bond, and my hair long and straight, it’s like Sleeping Beauty |
See she truly feel like she belong in two worlds |
And now she can’t relate to other girls |
Her father is rich and white, still living with his wife |
But he forced himself on her mother late one night |
They call it rape, that’s right |
And now she take flight from life with hate and spite inside her mind |
To keep her up to the break of light a lot of times |
I gotta find myself, I gotta find myself |
I gotta find myself, she had to remind herself |
They call her Siffronia, the unwanted seed |
Blood still blue in her veins, and still red when she bleeds |
Don’t, don’t, don’t hurt me again (x8) |
Teenage lovers sit on the stoops of a Harlem |
Holdin' hands under the Apollo marquee dreamin' of stardom |
Cause they were born the streets is watching and schemin' |
And now they got them generations facing diseases |
That don’t kill you they just got problems and complications |
To get you first, yo it’s getting worse |
When children hide the fact that they pregnant |
Cause they scared of givin' birth |
How will I feed this baby, how will I survive, how will this baby shine |
Daddy dead from crack in '85, mommy dead from AIDS in '89 |
At 14 the baby hit the same streets they became a master |
The children of the enslaved, they grow a little faster |
They bodies become adult while they keep the thoughts of a child |
Her arrival into womanhood was hemmed up for her survival |
Now she 25, barely grown, now on her own |
Doing whatever it takes, strippin', working out on the block |
Up on the phone talkin' about |
«My skin is tan like the front of your hand |
And my hair, well my hair is alright, whatever I wear when I fix it |
It’s alright, it’s fine, but my hips these sway hips of mine |
Invite you daddy when I fix my lips my mouth is like wine |
Take a sip, don’t be shy, tonight I wanna be your lady |
I ain’t too good for your Mercedes, but first you gotta pay me |
Quit with all them questions, sugar, whose little girl am I |
Why, I’m yours if you got enough money to buy |
You better stop with them compliments, we running out of time |
You wanna talk, whatever, we can do that it’s your dime |
From Harlem is where I came, don’t worry about my name |
Up on 125 they call me Sweet Thing» |
Say what, what, what, what, what, what, what, what, what, what |
What, what, what, what, what, what, what, what, what, what, what, what |
Say what, what, what, what, what, what, what, what, what, what, what, what |
What, what, what, what… oooo~ |
A daughter come up in Georgia ripe and ready to plant seed |
Left her plantation when she saw a sign even though she can’t read |
It came from God (praise him!), when life get hard she always speak to Him |
She’d rather kill her babies than let the master get to him |
She on the run up North to get across to Mason-Dixon |
In church she learned how to be patient and keep wishin' |
The promise of eternal life after death for those who God bless |
She swear the next baby she have will breathe a free breath |
And get milk from a free breast and love being alive |
Otherwise they’ll have to give up being themself to survive |
Being maids, cleanin' ladies, maybe teachers, and college graduates |
Nurses and housewives, prostitutes and drug addicts |
Some will grow to be old women, some will die before they’re born |
There’ll be mothers and lovers who inspire and make songs |
But me, my skin is brown and my manner is tough |
Like the love I give my babies when the rainbow’s enough |
I’ll kill the first muhfucker to mess with me, I never bluff |
I ain’t got time to lie, my life’s been much too rough |
Still runnin' with bare feet, I ain’t got nothin' but my sole |
Freedom is the ultimate goal |
Life and death is small in a hole in many ways |
I’m awfully bitter these days |
Cause the only parents God gave me; |
they were slaves |
And they crippled me, I got the destiny of a casualty |
But I’ll live through my babies and I’ll change my reality |
Maybe one day I’ll ride back to Georgia on a train |
Folks 'round there call me Peaches; |
guess that’s my name |