PLASTIC CROWNS

[Chorus]
We stack the plastic where the silver used to be,
A whole damn graveyard for the recipes.
The lids don't match but we don't never throw 'em out,
"It's for tomorrow," that's the only word from Mama's mouth.

[Verse 1]
The Cascade stain on the clear box from Sunday's jollof,
Smell of old spice that you can't scrub off, that's the cost.
We lost Moussa that October, cold snap on the block,
Left his takeout from the Golden Krust sittin' on the dock.
And now we stackin' up these phantoms, this inheritance of waste,
A brittle monument to every single aftertaste.
A fraying knot of memories the water can't get clean,
The hollow plastic echo of a king we used to be.

[Chorus]
We stack the plastic where the silver used to be,
A whole damn graveyard for the recipes.
The lids don't match but we don't never throw 'em out,
"It's for tomorrow," that's the only word from Mama's mouth.

[Verse 2]
They said to mourn, they said to weep, they sent the casseroles,
We packed the leftovers in boxes, fillin' up the holes.
Each container holds a shape, a ceremonial mask,
Of ackee, saltfish, foutou, every single final task.
But now it's June, the hydrants on, the little cousins run,
We pull the boxes from the drawer beneath the Brooklyn sun.
Not for the dead, nah, for the living, pack 'em full and tight,
This ain't a tomb, my brother, it's the arsenal for the fight.

[Bridge]
They ain't ghosts, they're blueprints. Not a debt, but a design.
We feed the future from the plastic altars that we find.

[Outro]
Stack 'em high. The feast is coming.
Ain't no famine here, just hunger.