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lirik lagu ma/buhay – i.t.m

“itm”

forget name if you know it
because for this moment my aka takes the stage with his prophetic proses posing like a moses upholding
one of hip-hop’s most cherished traditions
alongside diss tracks, a disk scratch
and head spins baptized by sunbeams from the unseen in clark kent fashion i pull a
dah-dah-na-nuh and become

itm
but save your laughs for a rainier day this is more than just a pilipino game of witty wordplay or a “punny” way to point out my skin’s shade
it’s time we reclaim this name from the chains of our internalized racism raised by
everybody’s favorite bad step dad father colonialism himself
so tell all
your t-to’s, t-ta’s, lolo’s, lola’s, mama’s, papa’s, ninongs, ninangs, manongs, manangs, h-lla pinsans
and that white uncle in law
what i will say today

itm is “no”
no, papaya soap, you will not bleach the bronze on my bones just because my cl-ssmates laughed my balat
tfc you are no different, because no matter how much you refuse to televise our people’s actual depiction by gorging yourself with those
k-drama wannabe’s
i will never ask my mirror to show, their reflection
no americanization, your grip of -ssimilation will never strangle my pinoy pride
for the stench of your colonial vestiges betrays your true intentions
no rudyard kipling, it was never the white man’s burden to preach your gospel of imperialism kissed by lucifer’s lips, the likes of which
painted my forefathers as your jungle book savage in need of their big white brothers
but hey, pia forgot to mention that. after all, she thought that “military presence” is not the same as “military, bases”
but enough saving faces, after all that’s a mistake not even
steve harvey would make
let’s get back to the no’s right quick like a pilipina work e-thic we got no time for no breaks
no uncle sam, we are not blood relatives, we are only in-laws because like your many other concubines my family could not say “no” when you proposed since you held them
at colt .45 caliber gunpoint after ravaging their home so
you will never hold the trophy of “t-to” in my household
no american dream, there is no number of white picket fences, white collars, or white christmases you can promise that will ever convince me to color my soul in your complexion
nor will you ever eclipse the risen son’s arrival that will restore every single one of our people’s 7,100 something isles
and no, mga kababayan at kapatid, i refuse to tattoo our darker hues with shades of ugliness, evil, and sin but do not
forget, itm is also “yes”
yes, summer’s sun, my melanin will be your canvas without skin-whitener contraceptives to numb the touch of your eight rays
yes, lolo, i will ask to hear the kuwento of your yesterday’s so that they may paint my tomorrow’s
yes, lola, i will pray before every meal in grat-tude of the blood, sweat, tears, long days, short nights, h-llo’s and goodbyes, it took to put first world servings of your cooking on my plate
yes, future anak, i will overthrow the emperor’s accent so that your generation will be raised by our mother rongue
yes, t-to larry itliong, though my teachers never heard of you i will learn more of what our people’s blistered bodies had to bear in the fields of this babylon
yes, kapwa, we will taste a decolonized, liberated gospel that embraces the full flavor of our souls like the sweet scent of sour sinigang on a cold american evening
and, yes. yes. opo i will always remember you
since my mother could not fit your luzon sunrise looming over the pacific in a balikbayan box because her
hands could not scoop up your warm bisayan beaches into a bottle because your
lush mindanao mountains of green would not p-ss us customs
our creator gave me a remembrance so i would never forget you:
under the sun/son, just like you, i became
itm

hook (nicole arca)
tatlo, dalawa, isa
isa, isang bagsak
isa, dalawa, tatlo
makinig sa aking kuwento
tatlo, dalawa, isa
isa, isang bagsak
isa, dalawa, tatlo
makinig sa ating kuwento

in the beginning there was breath but
white man bit forbidden fruit then came death for
that tree’s roots grew on his neighbor’s promised land
never sipped sweeter juice, it was sown by darker flesh
soil soft as satin, when he scaled the mountains
hues, luscious views threw his l-st into a tantrum
who would imagine? beauty ran rampant so
he would do what was allowed by none of his commandments
barely ad but armageddon dawned on the seventh
sailed through seven seas with ships for serpents
bit into the land, sucked her life into coffins
sold her color at auctions stole her children with doctrines
preached jesus, prayed to profit like muhammad so ironic
like love your neighbor but trigger under crosses
then when he preached his 3 point sermon he said
“you’re welcome” cause all of it was his burden, itm

verse 2
now this kid with dark skin, ended up with a
colorful collection of a buncha white friends some-
body help him, but even his next kin laugh at his ac-
-cent his silver-spoon was spoon-
fed who said you can claim this pride?
when your insides bleed white tie-die
and your outsides tell little white lies
white privilege in a brown disguise
backslid every step in reverse bal-
-ikbayan in my body, -ssimilated at birth bap
-tized by milk and honey but i died of thirst bon
appét-t hypocrisy ate my white washed words
yeah i talk in dollars, first world problems
how i was brought up, we were never ever hard up
mama had the money fruit of labor had us living in the
very land built by that white man’s burden, ha?

verse 3
but story isn’t over only getting longer
child of diaspora hyphen is my longest ocean
load on lola’s shoulders sold home for my diploma
lo behold ‘merican dream holds more like a coma
what’s a son without a mother? what’s a tongue without her aughters?
bootstraps when the devil wears prada? what’s
a yesterday forgotten tomorrow? is it sorrow?
how can i get it back when i feel like i can only borrow?
hyphenated ident-ty divided anatomy
amputated memories made mirrors for enemies
perpetual in-betweens on journeys of endless odysseys in a
dance of survival with bones for tinikling so
take a seat in the mezzanine, see a masterpiece
every tale gona sing yesterday’s eulogy grab
your mustard seeds, sow and reap, roots need the leaves we
are the fruit, that was stolen from our tree

outro
we, are the fruit, that was stolen from our tree
tayo ang bunga na ninakaw mula sa ating puno
o say can you see, what that flag really represents?
blood of our ancestors spilled over dollars and common sense?
waters once clear now seared by their progress?
and the skin of -ssimilation for 99 percent?
so pen to paper i wrote a letter for my people’s ears
listen closely, you might find something you needed to hear
you see that white man cannot k!ll life he can only make it sleep
so itm says “mabuhay, may araw na, gising”

- i t m

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