Three Cord Bond - Propaganda

Huh

And I watched them covet our style, our confidence, natural rhythm

Our terms of endearment, but not our struggle

And them products of the ghetto, what poverty can produce

And oddly enough, we giggled when you mimicked us, sweet revenge

Homies not stupid can tell the difference between

Admiration and mockery, please

So we protected our music because truthfully

We thought it was all we had

And watched y’all make a killing off it, hip hop to jazz

Elvis, to Fats Domino, Patra to Gwen Stefani

And the fact them names are foreign that’s just what I’m pointing to

You imitated Jamaicans, attempted to grow dreads and

Commodified reggae, that’s Marley’s face on everything

Your children uses faith as an excuse to smoke weed

So we grew angry unaware of God’s plan for rescue

But we ain’t know better, got a flawed version of personhood

Identifying only by being victims of oppression

A true story

And I watched them covet your camaraderie, your sense of family

Your food and work ethic, but not your struggle

And we were jealous you had a homeland, a native tongue

And your parents spoke in it, we were just the offspring of the broken

Hopeless, so we all learn Swahili as if we knew we were from that region

Silly, we know, but what you supposed to do when all you know

Your closest cultural customs are similar to your captors?

Huh, pastor?

Easier to blame them economic woes on

Filth filtering through our borders

Immigrant job hoarders

We should all just deport them all on one bus

It’s stupid us, broad brush

We thought you were all Mexican, it’s dumb, I know

I’m sorry, it’s embarrassing, forgive us, we were jealous

We ain’t know better, selfish, angry, prideful

Willie lynching, fighting over the same piece of mud pie

Cómo se dice?

Lo siento mucho.

Por favor

We all need grace much more

That’s a true story

And we coveted your privilege, your generational wealth

Your unquestioned personhood, but not your struggle

And we felt it wasn’t fair, we wanted your options

Your grasp on proper doctrines and literature, it’s silly huh?

Your American dream, apple pie, worked for you

So we worked for you

You made it seem so easy — grit your teeth, you could succeed too

We ain’t know your story, shoot we thought white was white

Not Irish or Celtic, or the Bolshevik plight

Or the pain of bearing stains inherited

You said you wasn’t there, it ain’t fair

You wouldn’t dare, but we ain’t care

But we ain’t know better, you told us you struggle too —

Rednecks and trailer parks, me and you are cool

I hurt like you

But that was fire for the fuel that boiled into them riots

Y’all was so confused and truthfully so were we

But now we understand we suffered the same stain

We gain from a shared ancestor, we all descend from Adam’s sin

Riddles every inch of us, but now we see clearly

That Crimson Cord is one rope made from many strands

And each its own color, but now it clearly stands

Dyed the color red from our Savior’s blood shed

And a rope finds its strength from multiple lines wrapped

Around each other until they’re all perfectly intertwined

So let’s just call it even and walk through life knowing

That a Three Cord Bond is not easily broken