superwoman
Hot blooded like Rihanna, sexy kinda dangerous like Columbiana, you know Zoe Saldana. Come through drift driving putting the handles to these ratchet chicks envious green eyein cause I know you're schemin and connivin, so I move with caution and feminine finesse, stay dressed to impress in a body hugging see through Azzedine Alaia mini dress and I know I got you shook at the way these Fendi heels make these ebony legs look, face it baby, I steal the show like a crook, if class and style were a rap song I'd be the baseline, lyrics and the hook. If you wrote a novel about it my name would be the title of the book, know that when the world's greatest chef created the world's greatest meal he was thinking of me when he started to cook.
Stop playin, you know what I'm sayin, I'm your superwoman, or am I? Maybe I'm just a figment of your imagination or maybe when you look through this see through dress at these thong panties and pretty breasts you have a yearning for a transgender assignation to relieve your emotional stress. I'm sure you can imagine the rest, Marvin Gaye said it best. When you get the feelin you need sexual healin.
But don't think for a second that I don't see the reality, no matter how much of a pretty diva I may be you still don't wanna be seen in non gay public with me because your feeble boy mind says that would be contrary to what a real man is supposed to be but you know what? That's fine with me because I don't need you holdng my hand to define me or celebrate being all the woman I know I'm supposed to be or to achieve being the great woman I"m meant to be. All I need is confidence in me.
Like I said, I'm hot blooded like Rihanna, sexy kinda dangerous like Columbiana, so you don't have to worry about me, I'm very capable of handling me. I'm a full grown woman, not an emotional spazz,
but you can call me your SUPERWOMAN -- Fatima Shabazz.
Stop playin, you know what I'm sayin, I'm your superwoman, or am I? Maybe I'm just a figment of your imagination or maybe when you look through this see through dress at these thong panties and pretty breasts you have a yearning for a transgender assignation to relieve your emotional stress. I'm sure you can imagine the rest, Marvin Gaye said it best. When you get the feelin you need sexual healin.
But don't think for a second that I don't see the reality, no matter how much of a pretty diva I may be you still don't wanna be seen in non gay public with me because your feeble boy mind says that would be contrary to what a real man is supposed to be but you know what? That's fine with me because I don't need you holdng my hand to define me or celebrate being all the woman I know I'm supposed to be or to achieve being the great woman I"m meant to be. All I need is confidence in me.
Like I said, I'm hot blooded like Rihanna, sexy kinda dangerous like Columbiana, so you don't have to worry about me, I'm very capable of handling me. I'm a full grown woman, not an emotional spazz,
but you can call me your SUPERWOMAN -- Fatima Shabazz.
My People
Most of my people have long ago been written off by the government, caught in the crossfire of lock em up forever sentiments, bullshit gets tough on crime politricks, so now we're considered society's rejects, crammed into tiny ass ghetto apartments in ghetto projects. Single mothers struggling with kids that have to fight off hunger pangs, hard waiting for ma dukes to get her next EBT card.
So man don't ask me nothin about why my people fuck with the street, betta believe it's about the cloths on your back and shoes on your feet. That's why most of my people graduated from free lunch program sandwiches and government cheese, to pitchin nicks and dimes off curbs and stashin doe for continous cashflow, tryin to go from a quarter to a half, from a half to oz's to sittin in the back of Benzo's negotiating for keys, so we get the house keys to a spot by the lake and chillin on my backyard patio grillin a tuna steak. We ain't look for handouts man all we need is a break.
But unfortunately, the reality is that there are some people that don't wanna see that for me, they rather see my wrists in chains and label me a menace to society - how crazy is that - land of the free purposely holdin me back - how oppressive is that, taxin every dollar I make 50% above the fair rate, how capitalist is that?
Are you fuckin serious? Heathens in the United Nations can go to trial on an entire nation for war crimes in Iraq, but these same polichickens can't write a law to keep killer cops from killing unarmed American kids, especially if that kid is black. How American justice is that?
Blood stained teardrops on my dress, the makeup on my face a mess from the police brutality beatdown I got for refusing to confess after storm troopers kicked in the door to my place of rest, chained me up under arrest, shot a tazer into my breast, yelling at me to stop resisting even though I was already down in a prone position, body twitchin from my tazered condition- now-the-prosecuter wants me to cop a plea under duress so you tell me - what happened to due process?
The justice system is a bad ass joke, most of my people already know we're probably all going down in a hail of police bullets and gun smoke so don't be surprised by the death look in my eyes or the grim look on my face, its' a by-product of running this ghetto rat race, but I'ma keep doing what I do to cure my penniless condition, see from my position it's easier asking God for forgiveness than it is permission.
Especially since these bogus preachers keep telling me my soul is full of sinful pollutions but they ain't offering any absolution, they keep tellin me my problem but ain't offerin any solution. Man knock it off, I'ma keep rollin on this life's road to it's conclusion singin my redemption song cause I know redemption ain't impossible, the road to it is just hard and long so keep ya head up and stay strong, that's the best you can do when you're knocking on heavens door, you gotta keep ya mind right and your back off the floor, hope the creator will forgive you and open the door, no pain no more. That's what the church ladies keep prayin for, and singing for, under the church steeple.
Heaven for my people.....
So man don't ask me nothin about why my people fuck with the street, betta believe it's about the cloths on your back and shoes on your feet. That's why most of my people graduated from free lunch program sandwiches and government cheese, to pitchin nicks and dimes off curbs and stashin doe for continous cashflow, tryin to go from a quarter to a half, from a half to oz's to sittin in the back of Benzo's negotiating for keys, so we get the house keys to a spot by the lake and chillin on my backyard patio grillin a tuna steak. We ain't look for handouts man all we need is a break.
But unfortunately, the reality is that there are some people that don't wanna see that for me, they rather see my wrists in chains and label me a menace to society - how crazy is that - land of the free purposely holdin me back - how oppressive is that, taxin every dollar I make 50% above the fair rate, how capitalist is that?
Are you fuckin serious? Heathens in the United Nations can go to trial on an entire nation for war crimes in Iraq, but these same polichickens can't write a law to keep killer cops from killing unarmed American kids, especially if that kid is black. How American justice is that?
Blood stained teardrops on my dress, the makeup on my face a mess from the police brutality beatdown I got for refusing to confess after storm troopers kicked in the door to my place of rest, chained me up under arrest, shot a tazer into my breast, yelling at me to stop resisting even though I was already down in a prone position, body twitchin from my tazered condition- now-the-prosecuter wants me to cop a plea under duress so you tell me - what happened to due process?
The justice system is a bad ass joke, most of my people already know we're probably all going down in a hail of police bullets and gun smoke so don't be surprised by the death look in my eyes or the grim look on my face, its' a by-product of running this ghetto rat race, but I'ma keep doing what I do to cure my penniless condition, see from my position it's easier asking God for forgiveness than it is permission.
Especially since these bogus preachers keep telling me my soul is full of sinful pollutions but they ain't offering any absolution, they keep tellin me my problem but ain't offerin any solution. Man knock it off, I'ma keep rollin on this life's road to it's conclusion singin my redemption song cause I know redemption ain't impossible, the road to it is just hard and long so keep ya head up and stay strong, that's the best you can do when you're knocking on heavens door, you gotta keep ya mind right and your back off the floor, hope the creator will forgive you and open the door, no pain no more. That's what the church ladies keep prayin for, and singing for, under the church steeple.
Heaven for my people.....
Lost ones
Pay attention and listen to my truest thoughts, then maybe you can picture my vision. No more of my sisters dreamin' from a hard bed sittin' in a cold prison. We need a new mission. See, I remember. I remember when for the lost ones I used to pour out a little liquor. Never did I figure poverty would be the trigger that would stain my spirit Black. Now I'm praying for the forgiveness an unforgiving dark soul lacks. Baby, it's hard living when you come from the black side of the tracks, trying to hustle your way outta the ghetto stashin' away paper stacks, prayin' by your loved one's bed side, dear momma, just hold on, I know what to do, we're gonna make it through and I'ma be able to take care of you.
So listen, listen to my truest thoughts. Pay attention to my deepest feelins. There's desperation in my Trans nation that keeps me and my sistahs in miniskirts and high heels, cuttin back alley you can fuck me for a few deals, got us poppin' pills and smokin' weed so we can kill the pain, numb the brain, cause bein' ass up face down makes my life seem hopeless, and makes it hard to keep focus. Out here these demons play magician with your life like hocus pocus and poof, you're gone. Now corner walkers, shed tears for the lost one.
So tell me, how many more caskets do we need to see lowered in the dirt? How many more mothas do we need to hug through the hurt while the devil looks and laughs and his minions smile and smirk?
Damn sistahs, we need to figure out a better way to make this world work, cause baby, I'm tired of Hoe Stroll walkin' wit my naked ass hangin' outta the bottom of my extra small micro mini skirt/tryin' to get someone to pay me to put that naked ass to some fuck me baby work/bent over, head against a wall on a dark back street, or ass up face down some dude's smelly ass back seat....
So my sistah, say a prayer for me and I'ma say one for you too. Baby girl, we gonna figure this shit out together and come up with a better plan, deal ourselves a better playa's hand, make some good runs and stick to our righteous guns; Sistahs', we cannot be the Lost Ones!!!!!
So listen, listen to my truest thoughts. Pay attention to my deepest feelins. There's desperation in my Trans nation that keeps me and my sistahs in miniskirts and high heels, cuttin back alley you can fuck me for a few deals, got us poppin' pills and smokin' weed so we can kill the pain, numb the brain, cause bein' ass up face down makes my life seem hopeless, and makes it hard to keep focus. Out here these demons play magician with your life like hocus pocus and poof, you're gone. Now corner walkers, shed tears for the lost one.
So tell me, how many more caskets do we need to see lowered in the dirt? How many more mothas do we need to hug through the hurt while the devil looks and laughs and his minions smile and smirk?
Damn sistahs, we need to figure out a better way to make this world work, cause baby, I'm tired of Hoe Stroll walkin' wit my naked ass hangin' outta the bottom of my extra small micro mini skirt/tryin' to get someone to pay me to put that naked ass to some fuck me baby work/bent over, head against a wall on a dark back street, or ass up face down some dude's smelly ass back seat....
So my sistah, say a prayer for me and I'ma say one for you too. Baby girl, we gonna figure this shit out together and come up with a better plan, deal ourselves a better playa's hand, make some good runs and stick to our righteous guns; Sistahs', we cannot be the Lost Ones!!!!!