For Women

My skin I brown
My hair is platinum blonde, today
Burgundy tomorrow
My nails is long
I know no sorrow, cause
Ain't nothing I care to know, but
Where my check so I can get my tix for the Jay-Z show
And
I do aspire to be a video-ho do
And I know
Pop-eye got shot last night
But
That's how it go, in da ghetto
In da ghetto
What do they call me
Read the tattoo on the left breast
My name is Lexxus, yeah girl
My name is Lexxus, get it right

My skin was young, so young
It burned and tore
My hair was pressed and curled
And tied with ribbons that Sunday morn
September 15, 1963
I screamed in the basement of the church, I screamed
The last day I would ever see
Ma and Pa would never know the woman I would grow up to be
I was an involuntary offering for humanity
Why did they hate me
Why dey hate me, so, so, so
What did they call me
Four Little Girls
Four Little Girls

My skin is tough, this woman
This
Lunch and home, mistake and love maker
Double shift worker, sometimes warrior, sometimes weak
This wife
This single soldier
God-given, God fearing, God doubting
This, bearer of wisdom and fruit and pain
This, once girl sometimes still
Saint, sinner, teacher, multi-tasker, friend, this everyday wonder
This woman, this nation-builder
This raiser of leaders, of losers, of babies, of boys who will become men
Girls who will become women
This woman
Some call me mama, hey mama
Hey mama, hey mama

My eyes are a rainbow
I reflect the spectrum
I have seen much
My heart weighs heavy
Even with joy I feel so much
My hair is electric
I am ablaze, I am the source
I can feed you or starve you
Breath life into you or bleed you
I can fuck you or love you
I don't care how they call me
I know who I is
Call me crazy, divine, Ma'at, true honeybun
Supreme Pontifica, electric lady, holy prostitute
I don't care what you call me
I know who I is, I know who I is
I know who I is, I know who I is
I is
Mammy, mulatto, welfare mom
Matriarch, mid-wife
I IS