Fiesta, that’s terminology for freedom.
Clave, timing patterns of the culture.
Congas and bongos, syncopated polyrythmic explosions
that prep the revolucion.
Un campana every dos mañanas,
another way to liberate dawns in a cresscendo.
Oscar Lopez Rivera, Salute!
A brutal three cipher years cell block spell
in the tempo of the Yankees colony.
Oscar earned commute—wasn’t no maraca wand shaking magic beans.
We got some of the last of Obama’s classy crumbs
for posterity but no, property won’t pawn him.
And we gon dance in the rubble again tonight!
Back on Gunset Park hill,
collecting a trump of tiny rocks and stolen pence
and we’ve got some songs for that fucking promesa.
For now, gather the mic stylists and the wordplay athletes
to Spanish Harlem so we can celebrate.
The system is the symptom not the disease. Before you assemble all my people’s shit and put it in piles of supply you had your own demands. Demanding that you ought to control it all because you’re too weak to make any of it all. So you find the Original, the supreme indigenous everywhere, and create the myth that all power corrupts. When you absolutely take it, absolute power corrupts absolutely you tell us. #RespectFAKE your best system made, capitalism, that our minds that create are the invisible goods and the creations we create are the capital you get your Keynesian on. After all these years do you understand our depression? Oppression’s been in session.
Swipe a payment but protect ya neck. Lotta niggas sing song ‘By Any Means Necessary’ but call the freedom fighters terrorist. Names don’t replace history but only simplify passiveness. It’s like a madvillain lurks taking our weapons while we warring for justice, shooting us, then telling us to get to steppin. I’m opposed to that strange way cause I know the real revolutionaries, build in the ciphers and discuss violence. This discourse on the righteousness of means are for those who mean it. Meaning we talk the blows of the American dream myth slapping we victims of collateral migration and now we think we here of our own accord. A LO Life swordsman who robbed his dignity back I reminisce on Operation Bootstrap lacing my Polo rangers on. The ongoing pillage of the homeland won’t be ignored as their welfare pays my college tuition. See fight or flight are both honorable paths when you got family to take care of. That’s how I even got here but ain’t we hiding the real macro reasons for a hopeful exotic micro reasoning. Real reasons versus convenient reasoning, colonialism versus honored guest migration. ‘Spic, will you kindly be seated in your new slum?’
Oscar Lopez Rivera is free championed by the fighters I educate young rebels on. It’s an old win for a man with an ever-new fight. They’re word still isn’t bond and we ain’t free, badly associated and damned in this state of oppression. That’s my ol’ time talk cause La Libertad Logico isn’t just a Latin Jazz instrumental. But if I wi-fi on, Promesa is just another pledge to help us manage our own demise. How dare we prepare an uprising? How dare we embrace contradiction, live peacefully in America and demand the freedom of our homeland? How dare we blast ol’ Willie Colon classics knowing he fucking fell on the racist right wing?
Conquer mics back, Black, like Napoleon da Legend! Contradictions overwhelming but underwhelming them and hugging hypocrisies takes away the only real weapon of the revolutionary. The long nights trying to figure it all out. Composing the what ifs? is the culture of creators that free themselves. So, turn the functions back on. Suspension of belief in the oppressor gots to be on. Oscar Lopez Rivera was an activist, honorable in all ways and means knowing the days was staying demeaning. In the barracks, he got the right to collect arms not endowed by your fucking George Washington creator but by the code of imprinted language in the Blackest conga skin delivered in the constitution of Albizu and ratified by the inked feathers on the head of the great Arawak. No snitch and never acquiescing the principle of Puerto Rican—human–freedom and the right to struggle towards it, embarrassing these street’s best recorded raps. Word. Men shouldn’t have to conspire, they ought not be traitorous, they ought not expose and dismantle functioning societies. But those trumped charges only been suited for that oranged elect and his land.
¡Viva Puerto Rico Libre!