Me long for warmth of the motherland.
Where language me spoke was language of wealth.
Where her waters stay strong and loving.
Calls of Ma Afrika , Ma Afrika.
They women are soul of land.
They tend, they make, they give.
Men hunt, men work politiek, men conceive.
They Afrika, me Afrika.
Me did not come here on boat.
Me did not come here like Eddie Murphy’s Coming to America.
Me was born here. In ghettos,
Prone to street violence,
And white authority brutality.
Remember in America my color is my currency.
Remember me culture and wealth.
The authority placed a protocol to make up forget.
We are viewed as violent thieves, rapists, and lazy thugs.
We are given little education and little jobs.
We are deemed as least desirable and terrible choices.
But how we like that if our blood is rich?
Our culture embodies royalty and ethnicity!
How our history not taught in American history yet,
We remain pivotal in shaping America.
Like our rich culture and knowledge had made us prosperous,
Once in ancient Afrika.
Me must remember as they Afrika,