T.H.O.T in the shade

susanna and the elders large

That girl over there
The one with the overdid hair
And make-up like an untamed horse
Her bubble gum chimes in at every chance
Belting melodies of debauchery
But that’s just the intro to the song
The beginning of the hook

So she does hang
She hangs with relevance
She’s down with what’s new
A broken hanger holding on for dear life
Best-friend’s with ratchet
Loud and obnoxious, twerking her worries away
With no knowledge of pride
She’s filled with the funk of yesterday’s cigarette smoke

She dances to the beat of it
Songs to which
A pleasure paraphernalia is lit
And she’s just that; a bowl and a bong
She’s a means but never an item
And so she hates the music she makes
The one with the knock in the beat
That reeks of potent ghetto.

So that girl got her some weave
And some nice shoes from
Yesterday’s man
In search of self respect
An attempt to catch the innocence
That escaped her in mama’s womb
Youthful exuberance lost in a segregated bathroom
She wandered the pits of men’s loins

Don’t tell mama about her daughter
Let this be a secret
Told among men’s egos
For she’s become nothing
More than a brush to fine mink coats
A rappers delight
A singers nerve pill
Once more she hangs with relevance

Don’t tell your mama and her mama
About that hoe over there
For she’s only spoken about
At the church steps
A blessing to the players game
Mention her only in whistling gestures
Out in the street
For she’s not worthy wind
To blow your grandmother’s finely draped curtains.

– Smyekh David-West.

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