………United States Colored Troop, at your service, but all we had was soup, and we still had to get up front and shoot, but this black spook was dropping ‘em faster than Uncle Sam lied at Hopewell, oh well another treaty fell, but don’t step on my Union hat, or we gonna have to scrap for that; and fuck an emancipation I’ll fight my way off the plantation, along side my flank man with his cotton made union uniform, we stay in form until slavery’s gone and them crackers is castrated and hated, when they come out of hiding, they’ll be surprised we waited, date it, that will be the day they get faded; but they better not touch my union hat, or it’s gonna be bullet holes in clothes, when you strike that death pose for the cameras, I’ma bastard and my people been mastered, that’s why I think backwards, my ancestors got captured; but I’ma make amends for that, make them crackers pay homage with a piece of their livers, just a sliver, every Juneteenth, while I smoke my spliff in the middle of the riff; don’t step on my union hat, I’ll change your attire with fire, let you try on that noose and you won’t get loose.