But after many many many LSD trips, either I or the world around me started looking like this.....
(Thats me on the far right)
There was Vietnam, Malcolm X, The Beatles were breaking up and I felt lost. So lost in fact that I spent the summer of 1969 living in Chicago. I moved in with this guy...
His name was Fred Hampton and because of him I unknowingly became part of the BLACK PANTHER PARTY!!!!!
I thought it was some sort of Book Club, but shit was I wrong. We was revolutionaries.
We was black motherfuckin' militants who looked like the Isley Brothers or cast members of Soul Train. We didn't fuck around wit no "pigs".
And I don't mean this pig.
I mean we took our Black Rage out on Police Officers.
But by the fall of 1969, I got bored with these guys. They spent to much time talking in rhyme.
I also had been called back to my band for a fall tour with The Monkee's.
The last I heard the surviving members of the Black Panther Party either landed acting roles on Good Times and the Jeffersons or had formed a musical group called NEW EDITION.
I plan on writing a book about my time in The Black Panthers, but am still under the fear that I will be shot and killed for the things I may reveal.
If I am killed writing this book, it's this nigga who shot me...
