Well, I’m Black now, but the first thing I did was quit all my jobs. I don’t know how I’m supposed to pay the bills. Probably have to start selling crack or rappin’. Or rappin’ about selling crack. You know … I might not even have revitiligo. Okay, I’m Black.
What am I supposed to do now? So, this is it, huh? Is this what you do all day? Sit there reading books that make you think better of yourself, huh? Black man can’t get nowhere with his little pecan-sized mind. So, now you can read. Now what? What you gonna do now? Oh. Uh-huh!
Nothing. That’s what I thought. You know why? Cause we n*****. Both of us. And that’s— And that’s all we ever gonna be. That’s all we ever gonna be. So, this is what I have to look forward to as a Black man, huh? Just sitting around, playing Playstation all day. Ooh!
Waiting for the next “Madden” to come out. Maybe I should go out and put rims and all kinds of goofy sh*t on my truck. Oh, we probably gonna die any second now from one of these conditions and diseases that n***** get. You name it. Diabetes, gout, high blood pressure, asthma, sickle cell …
Oh, Ruckus, stop. This is all in your damn head. You the exact same fool you were last week. You were Black then, you’re Black now, and you’re gonna be Black tomorrow. Ain’t nothing wrong with being Black. If you give it a chance you might actually like it. Mm-hmm.
Ruckus, what are we doing here? Well, that’s what n***** do, right? Buy sneakers. Then maybe later we’ll buy loud stereos and berate women in rap lyrics. Is this the kind of sh*t you n***** put on your feet nowadays? This look like a damn astronaut shoe. I’m Black. I’m not walking to the moon.
I’m walking to the liquor store. Ruckus, stop! Come on, man. LeBron James. Allen Iverson. Can I get a shoe named after a white man, please?
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