Untitled

Oh, little, innocent, racially confused boy

wandering down the halls.

This is my ode to you.

Overheard you talkin' at the lunch table this

afternoon,

Word.

You're getting a haircut, huh?

It's not an ordinary haircut,

It's a black man's haircut.

There ain't a black hair on your body,

Brotha.

Yeah, but you got the talk, you say,

You gots the walk,

Your skin color don't make the difference,

so why change the way you actin'?

I guess for the same reason my girls gotta

slut it up

to get a half-assed excuse for a man.