Beyonce has dropped a new single called “Black Parade” at midnight Saturday. It’s a day late for Juneteenth, but timely nonetheless. It’s immediately catchy, seems like it has some of “Soul Makossa” in it, and shouts out Curtis Mayfield. It seems like she sampled the title at least from a song with the same name by My Chemical Romance.
She wrote on Instagram: Happy Juneteenth Weekend! I hope we continue to share joy and celebrate each other, even in the midst of struggle. Please continue to remember our beauty, strength and power. “BLACK PARADE” celebrates you, your voice and your joy and will benefit Black-owned small businesses. Click the link here to learn more.
[Intro]
Ah
[Verse 1]
I’m goin’ back to the South, I’m goin’ back, back, back, back
Where my roots ain’t watered down, growin’, growin’, like a baobab tree
I’ll fly above of the ground, ancestors put me on game
Uptown, all gold chains, with my Oshum energy, oh
Drip all on me, woo, [?]
Hol’ up, don’t I smell nice? Such a [?] scent
Yeah, pure ice, ice, ice, ice, buss down
Uh, flooded (Flooded), flooded (Flooded), on my wrist, out
Ooh, goin’ up, goin’ up, motherland, motherland drip on me
Ooh, melanin, melanin, my drip is skin deep, like
Ooh, motherland, motherland, motherland, motherland drip on me
Ooh, yeah, I can’t forget my history is her-story, yeah
We black, baby, that’s the reason why they always mad, yeah
They always made, yeah
Been past ’em, I know that’s the reason why they all been mad
And they always have been
[Chorus]
Honey, if I’m around my way, around my way
Whenever momma says so, momma say
Here I come on my throne, sitting, ah
Follow my parade, oh, my parade
Talkin’ slick to my folk (My folk), lift that lip like lipo (Lipo)
Hear them swarmin’, right? Bees is known to bite
Now here we come on our thrones, sitting, ah
Follow my parade, oh, my parade
[Verse 2]
Yeah, yeah, I’m for us, all black
All chrome, black on, black tints (Yeah), matte black (Yeah, yeah)
Obama, windows down, let ’em see who in it
Crack a big smile (Ding)
Gold figure, me and Jigga, fifth, eleven cheerin’
They like, “Chick, how?”
I charge my crystals in a full moon
You could send them missiles, I’ma send my goons
Baby sister rappin’, hear me out, hear me out
Trust me, they gon’ need an army (Ah)
Rubber bullets bouncin’ off me (Ah)
Made your picket sign, I’m your picket fence (Ah)
Take it as I want it (Ah, ah)
Waist speaks from Yoruba (Woo)
Four hunnid billi’, Mansu Musa (Woo)
Straw line to the barber, grew
Burn the city down, where we gon’ make it look cute
Pandemic fly on the runway in my hazmat
Judgin’, runnin’ through the house to my art, all black
Ancestors on the wall, let the ghosts chit-chat
Ancestors on the wall, let the ghosts chit-chat
Hold my hands, we gon’ pray together
Lay down, face down in the gravel
Woo, wearin’ all attire white to the funeral
Black love, we gon’ stay together
Curtis Mayfield on the speaker (Woo)
Lil’ Malcolm, I miss ’em, [?] Tina (Woo)
Need another march, lemme call Tamika (Woo)
Need peace and reparations for my people (Woo)
Fuck these laid edges, I’ma let it shrivel up (Shrivel
