Chords for X-Clan - Funkin' Lesson

[Ebm] Peace, I'm called Professor X the Overseer.
In the early 1900s, a brother set out on voyage.
His mission, black nationalism.
His oath, freedom or death.
In the 60s, brothers like Stokely Carmichael, H.
Rap Brown.
The mission, black nationalism.
The oath, freedom or death.
In the 90s, the mission, black nationalism.
The messengers, X-Clan.
The movement, Black Watch.
The oath, freedom or death.
_ By the way, _ _ _ [G]
freedom or death,
you shall all be moved. _
[Gb] Vanguard, this [B] is protected by the [Bb] red,
the black, [N] and the green, with the peace.
_ _ _ See, [F] I'm a cadaver, I'm a baby professor.
All hail, Funkin' Lessons.
Sweet tongue, grand vital scrolls.
Now behold, let the legend unfold.
Born in a cosmos [Am] where no [Em] time and space do [D] exist.
Lying in the midst of the [F] chaos.
[C] Mothers label [D] me as illogical, mythological.
They couldn't comprehend [Cm] when I brought the [N] word.
A sick, cold verb, a black, still nerve.
No actors and actresses who write a couple lines
on what black is, really?
Then they label me a sin.
When a brother just speaks what's within.
I guess I'm blacker than the shadow in a darkened alley
that they're [F] always scared to go in through.
I wear boots and beads, bags and braids.
Sticking scrolls, racy shades.
Walking in the light of the moon,
but I'd rather [D] been a Batman.
African, call it Black Man.
[F] Brother, extract the African steps from your movements.
[D] Enhance for improvement, grand [Cm] funk.
I knew a [N] home for the praise.
Funkin' Lesson, the pathway.
♪ Ready or not, here we come.
_ _ ♪
♪ _ [Bbm] Don't run with your feet.
[Bb] _ ♪
[Fm] _ _ ♪ Can I get it on the click button?
No. _
[C] ♪
_ Let me tell you about blackness.
[Bb] Bits and [N] cornbread, how can you act this?
I exist on a plane, with a jar as my brain.
I'm living to achieve self, antenna my stick.
Picture bigger, native licker.
Figure the boom of the chinga go zoom.
Not boom, not a bunch of steam, but serious flavor.
[C] The red, black, and green.
[Em] It is so much more than red, black, and [F] green.
You ask [Am] what I mean,
[E] but you can send out shades and [D] lights a dream.
[C] Watch through, oops, upside your head.
You're off to abyss like lead.
Where you going?
What's your [N] speed?
What's your pleasure?
What's your need?
Trees and branches, roots and seeds.
Forward, backwards, many degrees.
Questions, answers, what's the sum?
_ _ _ _ We have come.
Out of the darkness in Panther [Ebm] School Park docks,
driving pink Caddy's,
bearing the riveting George's.
[Ab] Yes, [N] it gets blacker with a matte turtleneck.
Martin, Adam, Malcolm, Huey,
there's a party [Ab] at the [Eb] crossroads.
_ _ _ [Gb] _ _ [D] _ _
[N] _ _ _ _ [Am] _ _ _ [G] _
_ _ _ [D] _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ [N] _ _ _ _ _
[Ab] _ _ [Eb] _ _ [Gb] _ _ [Ab] _ _
[Bbm] _ [B] _ _ _ [D] _ [Ebm] _ _ _
[B] _ _ _ _ [C] How _ _ _ do [F] you think black?
I return from the stone crib,
bringing verbal milk, a stool and a bib.
Be filled with the black sap from the tri-wool
that flows freely on the tune.
We dead, taste the jam.
Come take a stroke to the rhythm of the gland.
Purple lava coming from the temple of void.
Crown for my [D] hat, man for my boy.
Onward, God, at the tour garage.
First with Horace, we ate with Tar.
I ride for Jeb, to war with Bas.
I talk to Lou as I ride the rab.
Roots of the world I sit.
Cross-legged, right over left.
[Cm] Drums of dance to drums of [F] war.
Who knows the score?
Speak no more.
Who write this down with the eyes of black?
Give it [Eb] East Blackwood.
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