VERSE 1

First of all, 2020 was supposed to be chill…
You hit the *Redman voice* said “nah, let’s get ill!”
But keeping it real, 2020 signaled start of the shift
Golf-swing, foresight from hindsight and up to the lift
So I’ma take this continental drift, Pangaea my thoughts
While my city’s on lockdown with the quarantine cuffs
It’s kinda hard making sense of what we gained in the loss
So DEAR CORONA, this analysis comes straight from the heart
Now excuse my attitude and jaded mental in general…
I’ma a young, black, female, immigrant, millennial—
Raised on Hip Hop, studied political science and from New York
I question everything from noise to the silence
And I must say that you wylin’ even though I’m highly inspired
You stripped the world of its means and
Publicly dressed up new desires
Poetic on our disconnects and numbness as norms and
You fashion killa, you made the mask and gloves our new uniforms

HOOK*

DEAR CORONA
Like the world is mine, the world is yours
You remind me, that what’s straight can turn
If it bends it curves
While they busy hoarding and gauging
I’ma dig my spurs in Earth and purge
Never forgetting wild tastes
Of the dish you served and the lines you blurred
DEAR CORONA

VERSE 2

It’s been a few weeks of your slay, you proud of yourself hun?
You done snatched the economic wig, your damage not done?
Read about you in a book on the “Age of Aquarius”
It said you coming to cleanse ruins and sharpen our tool kits
Stimulus to bodegas in food desert adventures
Close quarters with certain folks giving mental hysterics
Are you a global-hypochondria-media-invention?
A reminder to check on our youth and check on our elders?
It’s the unknown of it all and your invisibility
The borders that you crossed and your sudden intensity
The charge in your change, the technique in your recipe
Machines that’ll fall not to flourish indefinitely…
You mobilize my stationary depth
From conspiracy theory to conquest
We wash our hands and keep a distance of steps (6 feet!)
You canceled everything and forced us to address

HOOK*

BRIDGE

Oops! There goes the jobs that used to pay…
There goes the plans to get away…
All of the grind you gave
But Corona’s on fleek and piff-boom-bam-pow
Oops! There goes the house you made a home
All of the shows and tours on the road
Whatever was yes is no…
Now which way do we go?

VERSE 3

DEAR CORONA, had to sing a little Blu (blues) to your ears
Cause right now you “hittin’ styles,” Pac and Big’n careers!
Now who does your PR? Cause your branding is poppin…
I just wish you’d shed more light on the communities throbbing
From the lack of human connection these apps energized
Came 100,000+ strong for D-Nice on his live…
All for music, art and dance—let me find out you cultural?
Know it’s an election year? Well g*d-damn is you punctual!
And egging dysfunctional, gradually uncomfortable
Though to introverts your safety measures highly acceptable
Definitely shed light on something called ‘appreciation’
While the death toll rises you’re abundant in affirmation
Not 1929, 2008, or 87—not Flint, Katrina or 9/11, comparable lessons
You triggered much panic, anxiety, depression though
Given us more time to create, given more weapons though

OUTGOING ADLIBS

For the poor, for the hungry, for the capable and strong
For the sick, homeless and jobless, for the elites and the pawns
I’m finna exercise, get into my higher mind
Virtualize, digitize, I’m finna maximize…