I am a poor, black, woman
Three strikes and I'm out, automatically
Before I even passed through the womb
They assumed that I would be nothing but,
A poor, black, woman
But what they predicted,
Conflicted with momma's teachings
Conflicted with my religion
Conflicted with my decisions
I'm taking life and making it my own
Changing the world and not letting it change me
Into it's perception of what a black woman 
  should be
I'm taking life and making it my own
And for that,
I am black woman strong.