Rahmbo Must Go, says My Wise Country Cousin

by BAR poet in residence Raymond Nat Turner

Now, you take me, I ain’t got but a sekun grade edjakayshun
But, son, I kin smell a got-damn crook… wit no hezatashun
Yes, suh, took one look an’ knew de boy was rottin to de bone
Hi-tek, modurn, vershun ob Big Jim, Toreeo, an’ Al Capone—
Lawd, Rahmbo wurs den Mayor Daylee, Nitty, an’ Bugs Moran
Overseein’ poleecemen dat’s de paid arm ob de Ku Klux Klan!
I truss Rahmbo… ‘bout lak I truss a bank robbur up in de safe—
Wus’n dat ol’ boy once de, uh, Commanduh’s Cheef ob Strafe?

Well, no wunda wen it come to killin’ Rahmbo no stranger—
‘Cause ob his trainin’ as Cheef ob Strafe fo’ de Drone Ranger!
He, de Ranger, an’ dat ol’Dunkin boy ain’t nuthin’ but crooks
Dey lak Jake ‘Greezy Thum’ Goosik, way dey cook de books:
Dem boys as crookit as Madeoff, mark’d cards, an’ lowdid dice
Bizee linin’ dey pockits lak Deeon O’Banyun an’ Himee Wise!

Son, bak in de day, luv me sum Woff, Ice Man, an’ Loopin’ Lou—
But, I care less den a rat’s ass fo’ de Ranger, an’ Rahmbo crew!
Dem boys is gran’ mastas wen it cum to playin’ Negroz fo’ fools
Karpit-baggers makin’ a killin’ closin’ up ober 50 ob de skools!
I dun tolt Negroz ober an’ ober: de Dems nuthin’ but 1% tools—
Criminuls dats makin’ de rules all wile dey’s breakin’ de rules…
But, kidz make ‘em thro’ de poleez cheef unda Greyhoun’ weels—
Rahmbo betta step his ass down wile dey’s still up fo’ makin’ deals
Son, I guess de lawd sho’ nuff do wuk in ways dat’s: strange—
Lak me in de streets wit de kids to axe fo'— “Regeem Change…”

I dun tolt Negroz ober an’ ober: de Dems nuthin’ but 1% tools—
Criminuls dats makin’ de rules all wile dey’s breakin’ de rules…
But, kidz make ‘em thro’ de poleez cheef unda Greyhoun’ weels—
Rahmbo betta step his ass down wile dey’s still up fo’ makin’ deals
Son, I guess de lawd sho’ nuff do wuk in ways dat’s: strange—
Lak me in de streets wit de kids to axe fo'— “Regeem Change…”

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