Don't get mad when you see 'em passin' by
though a white girl with a black man
sometimes make you wanna cry
But my beautiful black sisters

Don't Sweat That White Girl

Maybe our hair don't have her texture or curl
perhaps our eyes 'aint as blue as the sky
don't sweat her though
I'ma tell you why
Sure she's lacking our style and our curves
and brotha flaunts her so hard
it does gets on one's nerves
the good black men can be so hard to find
it's a true dissapointment to witness his kind
But before we complain 'bout the cards we've been dealt
we better start checking our beautiful selves
With a strong mind, some self-love, a good heart
and much prayer
we'll catch the eye of a TRUE BROTHA out there
who admires the look of a queenly black face
and to him, we won't have to plead our case
A real brotha be lovin' full thighs/hips and lips
so exquisite black woman, don't even trip
Let her have that "love-sees-no-color" kinda brotha
who's jumpin' the fence in search of a lover
He'll see the light, you can probably figure
when Barbie gets mad enough to call him a nigga
Too late it will be when he makes her a wife
then discovers he needs the sista spark in his life
'Cause I heard this somewhere, and I know it's true:
Can't nobody love ya like a sista do
When his senses return, he'll be runnin' back fast
and by then, we won't even want his ass
So don't  be bothered when you see them kissin'
his fever's so high, he don't know what he's missin'
He'll find the grass aint no greener goin' round the other way
Think I'm lyin?
Hell,
Go ask O.J.