Crossroads

Standing at a crossroads

Trading souls for sub-prime mortgage deals

The corpse of Robert Johnson feeds

The worms beneath my heals

I flash my plundered pearly whites

My teeth are pretty perfect

But I’d dissolve them all in alcohol if I thought that you would like me

And without a second thought I would replace them all with Ivory

I sputter pesticides and genocide the honeybee

And then I turn them into moustache wax

With diabolic Chemistry

And I cannot go back

I have your culture in the duty free

A trophy fresh from Africa

My proudly butchered poetry

I grind the griot up

And turn him into instant coffee

Snort it off your woman’s body

And proclaim that she is free

So come up and make a deal

For I’ve got cultures far and near

I wouldn’t call myself a vulture

But I’m all about Veneer