Sometimes he struts and sometimes he glides,
whatever we call it, it catches the eye
He looks straight ahead, intent on his goal
but the magic is there, it's slick and its bold
His shoulders are straight, his back strong, not bent
and the cut of his chin won't betray his intent
You see the curve of a muscle above the crook of his arm
and want the feel of it close when he turns on the charm
His waistline is small and narrow, maybe, maybe not
It really doesn't matter, it's that certain something he's got
like the sway of his hips as he moves on his way
to take care of the necessities that make up his day
The length of his stride don't necessarily measure the man
still it tells you he's proud and it shows when he stands
When a black man walks toward you with that devilish smile
your heart start to flutter and you admire his style
When he walks away from you, you appreciate the view
Because you remember with fondness what he's done for you
No matter the man, his shape or his size
we love him, we cherish him, to us he's a prize
some sing, some dance, some fight and some talk,
but my favorite is watching a black man walk.