Bitter bitches around the world could be heard slamming keypads to a point of no return as they Googled, Rhapsody searched, and iTunes bought Marsha Ambrosius’ ” I Hope She Cheats on You” from her album Late Nights and Early Mornings. Beyoncé’s “Put a Ring On It” deemed archaic…. I mean who wants that motherfucker now? NOT I!!! No, this song became the 2010 anthem as women purchased court side seats for their men as they pointed out just how nice Dwayne Wade’s ass looks in the middle of a lay-up. Comments of “I wonder if LeBron can take it to the hole for real” taunt him during half time. Yes, bitches!!! THIS IS WHY WE WATCH BASKETBALL!!!! Sports Center will never be the same. *Duh-nuh-nuh, Duh-nuh-nuh! lmao!
I can see it now, Half-Time show brought to you by Bitter Bitches of America and sponsored by Midol. Performance by Marsha Ambrosius. All you hear are the snaps to the intro and out come these hooded figures snapping into formation, reminiscent of the Egyptian dancers in MJ’s Remember the Time. No one’s face is seen but Marsha as the formation is made behind her as she stands center court under a sole spotlight. All you can hear through the arena is:
Verse 1: Ew whew ew whew oh oh I hope she cheat on you wit’ a basketball playa. Hope that she Kim Kardashian’ed her way up. Don’t know the difference ‘tween a touchdown and a layup. Got you on Viagra in order for you to stay up.
Pre-chorus: I may sound bitter, I’m a little bitter, just a little bitter because you were wit’ her. I’m Salt Lake City, now I’m up on out the picture. Remember how it was when I was wit’ cha baby? [Cues for mysterious dancers to drop their hoods]
Sex so good, do you remember oh baby? Sex so good do you remember oh?
CROWD GOES WILD!!!! Hoods are flipped back and Shaunie O’Neal can be seen leading Royce’s choreography! Yes, that’s right people…the entire cast of Basketball Jump-offs, I mean Wives, are center court, booty popping to their new ceremonial anthem! Being careful not to slip on their own tears, glass of water, wine or beverage of choice that has been thrown Evelyn-syle as a symbolic statement of I HATE YOU BITCH, TRY ME. They are in perfect harmony as the chorus breaks out amongst the arena speakers.
Chorus: Well look at how it all turned out now. I hope she cheat on you with a basketball playa. Look at how it all turned out now. I hope you feeling lonely baby now we’re not together. Look at how it all turned out now. I hope she cheat on you with a basketball playa. Look at how it all turned out now. Ew now that I’m without cha.
Aw shit! Just when you couldn’t get enough of Gloria’s “That’s What’s Up” wrist twists and Jennifer’s forehead…not to be outdone, on runs the cast of The Game to show these bitches how it is really done! Go Tasha! It’s ya Birthday! Call Pookie! Go Pow, Pow! Go Janay, It’s Ya baby’s Daddy! Work It Med School! Work it! Work it! Get Low Kelly, like your bank funds! lmao Yes, Jazz choreographed this portion of the great display of bitter bitches! DO THE TSUNAMI!!!!
Verse 2: I hope she cheat on you wit an NFL baller. She ignores you every single time you call her. Brand new Louis, gotta have it spend your money on her. When you wanna hit it she actin’ like she don’t wanna.
Pre-chorus: I may sound bitter, I’m a little bitter, just a little bitter because you were wit’ her. I’m Salt Lake City, now I’m up on out the picture. Remember how it was when I was wit’ cha baby? Sex so good, do you remember oh baby? Sex so good do you remember oh? (Baby)
Then they all join together as if Disney knew that this would be a musical. The cast from Glee! just itching in their seats to get up and join in a higher octave; judgment spewing from their eyes as if to say “Sit down , bitches, and let the professionals do it.” But it has already continued without them. This is Annette Funicello meets Lena Horne in Baldwin Hills directed by Tyler Perry. It is classic SNL Tom foolery in the key of broken-hearted! ENTERTAINMENT PEOPLE!!!! And a 5, 6, 7, 8,…..
Chorus: Well look at how it all turned out now. I hope she cheat on you with a basketball playa.
Look at how it all turned out now. Hope you feeling lonely baby now we’re not together. Look at how it all turned out now. I hope she cheat on you with a basketball playa. Look at how it all turned out now. Ew now that I’m without cha.
And true to Chorus Line form, they each take turns accenting a line from the hook as banners of who did them wrong are dropped from the arena ceiling along with Kim Kardashian’s pic just because the bitch made the song hot. And no one argues about her placement in the song because its true. And she could care less as long as the check clears! With a 1 and a 2 and…..
Hook: She cute and all, but that won’t last forever. What I had for you was so much better. Yeah the grass ain’t greener on the other side of town. Now look at how it all turned out now. I’m a little bitter, just a little bitter. But I’m doing better, ’cause we ain’t together. You sorry excuse for somebody I was into. Remember what it was when I was wit’ you?
Chorus: Look at how it all turned out now. I hope she cheat on you with a basketball playa. Look at how it all turned out now. Hope you feeling lonely baby now we’re not together. Look at how it all turned out now. I hope she cheat on you with a basketball playa. (so sad cheated on you wit’ a basketball playa) Look at how it all turned out now. Now that I’m without cha baby.
And for the closing finale, their children run out on the court doing the stanky leg while their divorce lawyers throw business cards into the crowd via the t-shirt shooter. They all start to do the dramatic , yet sexy slow walk with finger snaps off the court as Marsha ad libs. And just as they hit the exit, you can see Juanita Jordan giving high fives to the women as they head back to the dressing room where security can protect them from their exes……lmao. NeNe Leaks can be seen trying to get an interview from the sidelines.
Ad-libs: Yeah (yeah) yeah (yeah) yeah (yeah) heeeeyyyy yeah (x2) Yeah (yeah) yeah (yeah) yeah (yeah) saaaannnnggg yeah Yeah (yeah) yeah (yeah) Sing (I hope she cheat on you) I hope she cheat on you wit’ a basketball playa yeah. Hope you feelin’ lonely now we’re not together baby. Said I hope she cheat on you baby.
Yes….. this is how I envision it. This is how my head works. Dont judge me… you’re just mad because you didn’t think of it first! But serioiusly…. I am so glad that Marsha is back…and boy did she come back with a bang! You better believe that I am going to come back and review Far Away! This diva has us all wishing evil on our exes and his new girl…lol. But done so with a powerful voice that demands you pay attention and listen. Job well done, diva… I have NOTHING bad to say about this song.
Outside of me being pissed that i took the time to prepare for the event, that they didn’t have a place for me to sit, and that I didn’t get to perform ….partially due to the fact that I was running for my life….I was soooo embarrassed! I know this shouldnt be a white black thing, so I will make it a white , black, nigger thing. When I walked into the hotel I was praying that there was no one from my job within a 50 mile radius of this place. Judging by the attire and attitude of people hovering around the entrance this was not the crowd that I would ever be caught dead with. Call it judgement but later activities would prove me correct. There was a veterans seminar going on upstairs and there was a sea of elderly white people dangling over the balconies to catch a glimpse of all the ill-dressed “coloreds” with the cameras flashing and red carpet affairs. One friend even told me that an elderly white woman told him that she was happy that the “next generation was doing something so positive”. Another gentleman was over heard saying, ” …looks like good, clean fun.” This is what an on-looker thought of the 1,500+ people who showed up to supposedly celebrate one another.
I was outraged that even from the jump things were not done properly. Black people, we have GOT to raise our standards up higher than what we continue to allow to occur. The line for the registration was at the bottom of the escalators and could have been around the corner where the “pat down” was located. There weren’t any efforts to place proper signage to alert the people as to which line to get in for wrist bands, etc. And if I were to go back, there should have been a dress code for the award show. It should have been church or temple attire to enter this event. Something about wearing different clothes will make you act better for just a little while longer. I felt like I was walking down the streets of Southeast DC, not that I would…..and not that everyone is Southeast is horrible….but it certainly didn’t feel like an award show. EVERY man should have a suit. Call me stuck up if you want, but that should be a goal for every man to save up to buy at least one suit. And this award show would have been the proper place to wear it. Hell, slacks and a button up would have sufficed…anything but the street attire that allowed street activities to occur.
There was a taste of greed in the atmosphere as well. There were more people in that room than what that space would/should have allowed. I heard that the tables were sold for $500 a pop. Now I am all for making a profit, but fundraise, get sponsors, something! There were too many people walking between the tables than sitting to watch the show. The atmosphere was more on profits than true performance and celebration. I wouldn’t have started the show until everyone was seated and made to respect what the event was about in the first place. This is why people get to behave so poorly at events like this and then come uptown to my event and get their feelings hurt when I show their asses how to properly behave. This shit has GOT to stop.
The program, aside from misspelled words and names of invited performers, was more about advertisement than to direct and guide the show. Now I know that is where the sponsors go, but how was the show suppose to be ran? Someone could have easily taken a church program and used that outline. I didn’t know which performer I would have gone after or which category I may have performed after. It was all so disorganized.
But at the root of it all….I had to ask myself if these were my people. The answer, no. My people don’t do things like this. My people know how to act when at home but especially when out in public amongst mixed company. MY people respect one another and even when they disagree they do so in a contained manner. No one should ever know the disagreements that occur inside of one’s house. I finally understood why people who leave the hood sometimes choose to never look back. For once I saw it. I understood the motive behind their actions. I didn’t want to be associated with these people. I wanted to find all footage that had me on it and burn it. I was ashamed to be the same shade of skin as these people.
I was ashamed that black men felt the need to assert their “manhood” by beating someone up. I couldn’t believe my eyes at the sea of innocent people who were hurt because they thought that being a man meant to jump another person who looked just like them. Looking over the banister of the second tier, I couldn’t tell who the victim was, who the help was, or who the fighters were; THEY ALL LOOKED ALIKE! They looked alike, they looked alike, GOT DAMN IT NIGGAS, YOU ALL LOOKED ALIKE!!! The only thing that separated you was where you resided, who your friends were and that you had different mamas, but I be damned if someone told me that they could tell the difference between these males.
I am sitting here in my office fighting back tears. I saw older ladies get hit , females being tossed to the floor and thrown on tables to be moved out of the way. I saw a black teen come out of the hotel and film a girl’s mother crying and laughed because he thought it was funny. How is THAT being a man? How is THAT showing pride in who you are and where you come from?How did any of that make sense? The aftermath damn near resembled an earthquake or natural disaster. Broken tables, bottles shatter, chairs turned over, articles of clothing left behind and in pieces….this is something that one should never have to see; something that one should never do to YOUR OWN PEOPLE!
And maybe I just don’t get it, the hood mentality, but the truth of the matter is…. I don’t want to get it. NOTHING is ever that bad that you have to physically fight to prove your point. I know what it feels like to want to pin a bitch to the wall for talking out the side of her high-yella mouth and trying you…trust me, I do. But I also know what it feels like to refrain because I had nothing to prove to her. Me stomping her ass was a given. Everyone knew I would win that fight and I would come out looking like a bully rather than a strong woman who put this bitch in her place. I know what it feels like to be ostracized by those who claim loyalty to her and her lies in the shadow of something that only she and I know occurred. I know how it feels.Trust me, I know how it feels to have some one verbally come at you and you just stand there and take it. I’ve been disrespected before in a ballroom full of people. And you better believe that my first instinct was to SLICE THIS BITCH UP! But his own actions , my knowing I did no wrong, somehow was enough for me to leave it alone. I even changed my opening speech from “Taalam Acey said it best, there’s a market for niggas” just because I didn’t want people to think that I said it specifically for that nut. It hurt, yes it did. To be attacked whether someone felt I earned it or not…it stung. But just as I could scream that there was a more tactful and respectful way for those dummies to handle themselves, there was a better way for me to handle myself….and I believe I took the higher road. Because when it is all said and done, my life moves on. So what he bumped into you…. your life will move on. So what he is from a different hood than you… so what! YOUR LIFE WILL MOVE ON! YOUR LIFE WILL MOVE ON!!! None of what happened was worth what occurred.
Call me stuck up if you want… I don’t give a FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK! The only difference between me and these people are the fact that I KNOW BETTER. I had a hard childhood. I wasnt given shit. I literally/metaphorically fought my way through some situations. The difference is that I never once put myself or others in danger to assert myself. When you know better, you do better. So at what point did black people stop knowing better? At what point did beating each other become the norm? At what point did it become okay for people to be smiling and grinning and filming outside of these occurrences? Why wasnt anyone who wasnt hurt upset? Why weren’t they running to the police to nip everything in the bud?I just don’t get it.
No one will want to come to this award next year, if there is a show next year. No place worth coming would want to host it after what happened this year. And some of these places will be weary to rent out their space to other black organizations looking to build a successful foundation all because these coons decided to act an ass. And no one is willing to tell who started the fight. No one is willing to speak. You better believe that if this effected ANYTHING that was near and dear to me… I would squeal. AND LOUD! I would point out people in the YouTube vids. I’d get the guy who stole the bottle of liquor and admitted to it. I’d slow down every tape and point out the performers who were just on stage before the fight broke out. Yes, your officer…the dude in all black with the locs throwing the chair is apart of the group named ( insert group here). I’m not afraid to stand up for what is right. The sad thing is… I shouldnt have to be the only one.
P.S. You can tell the high-yella heffa & the nut I said it. I have already said it to them… so go ahead… be a nosey motherfucker and start something up. Its old news. You’ll be the main nigga that my blog was talking about… constantly trying to keep shit going. My opinions are just that. So nigga…..do you.
Also, tune in tomorrow to read my blog 200 Men Said….Let aMan be a Man[<~Click here tomorrow]. Even though it deals with relationships…. how appropriate that it follows after this blog. It wasnt scheduled, but the universe works in mysterious ways.
You might have seen nigger before, but you aint NEEEEEEEEEEVER seen nigger like this! Yes, I said it.. and what! What am I talking of, you ask? Well, that would be the 2011 DMV Awards. No, not the Department of Motor Vehicles, but the DC, Maryland, and Virginia Music Awards. TRUST ME when I tell y’all that the only way I could describe this event would be “Coontastically Coonerific”. WARNING!!!!!!: This is a LONG ASS BLOG POST!
Let me give you some back history. I was introduced to the coordinator of the event a month or two ago at an industry event party hosted by an amazing diva. I thought that this would be an amazing opportunity to bring poetry to a different demographic who may never travel to where I reside in order to be enlightened by Spoken Word. I even heard that there was a category for Best Spoken Word Artist. Now, this was news to me because I had never even HEARD of the DMV Awards before this moment. So how could there be an award for us when no one I knew was even aware that they were even NOMINATED? Yes, you read that correctly. My #1 ace called several people who were nominated in the poetry category and they were oblivious to the fact that they were even nominated. WTF? So was it a front? Who did they give the trophies to? Just…yeh. So after several conversations I got my big brother on the performance list as well because I thought that it would be good for this group to see a black male performing poetry as well. We were promised emails to give us performance details, when we would go on, directions, etc…..and we NEVER received them. This…..should have been a warning sign.
So, word on the street to people who I had come in contact with had already warned me that the DMV Awards was full of niggery. After having asked the coordinator, and I quote, “What is the dress code? Is it DC Club trendy or BET Honors?” To which he replied, ” WOW. That’s your call. I’m going for the shock value.” WTF kind of Tom Foolery is that? After hearing that, I was prepared to walk into the prestige kingdom of Niggerdom. I had got my hair done the night before, picked out a mature and sophisticated outfit that would make me one of the few women with the most amount of clothes in the building.
Upon walking up to the Hyatt-Regency of Crystal City, I could already tell we were in the right place due to the mounds of black people outside dressed in next to nothing. Yes, the fellas were in nothing more impressive than what appeared to be basement party dance-off gear and the females were dawning dresses made for an Uncle Luke video primed for BET Uncut. I am a straight woman who couldn’t take my eyes off the asses of these females whose dresses were inches from the cracks of their asses. I mean, here we were in 40 degree weather and these bitches were wearing Cooch Couture! Women of all ill shapes were set up by other ill-figured bitches. I saw more saggy breasts than a maternity ward at Jackson Hospital. I immediately knew that I wasnt suppose to be there do to the array of ass that was on display. Now having been a chronic sufferer of Donk Deficiency myself, I was a little out of my element…but I digress.
The press was there in abundance, and so were the hoodrats trying to get their attention. I mean, nominees were taking red carpet picks with their make-up artists. WTF? Where they do that at? (Pardon the preposition ending, but you know what I mean). Judging by the looks of this Flava Flav colored woman dawning Golden Arches colored lipstick… I be damned if I would claim her as my make-up artist, yet alone have her in my red carpet photos. Yes, I had finally entered nigger activity. But NOTHING, and I mean NOTHING prepared me for what would follow.
Upon entering the ballroom, being pat down for weapons, twice, …..
Sidebar: In the line to get pat down for weapons, a guy pulled out a WAD of $100 bills the size of a Double Quarter Pounder and placed them on the table because he was told to empty his pockets. Now, stereotypically…a guy dressed as poorly as he, white-tee, jeans, sneakers, sunglasses inside of a hotel at night-time, and unkempt facial hair and locs, one would suggest that he wasnt suppose to have that kind of money….legally. Secondly, nigga, we are at a hotel for an award show…why the fuck do you have that kind of money on your person? I was prepared to rob you my damn self.
Now, I found a woman who was assisting with the show and asked where were the performers suppose to sit. Do you know that this woman had enough nerve to ask me if I had purchased a table? WTF!!!! Trick, I was invited to perform for YOUR SHOW, performers don’t purchase tables or seats. You reserve seats for your performers and presenters and everyone else should purchase a seat. After temporarily sitting at a reserved table, I finally planted my ass in a chair that was propping open the ballroom doors and that is where God had intended me to sit for the remainder of my time there.
One would think that this was more of a club atmosphere than an award show. People were constantly walking throughout the crowds no one was really paying any attention to anyone that was on stage and half of the winners weren’t even in the building to accept the award. See how helpful reserved seating would be? Niggers parading with bottles of champagne, logo tatted shirts, and drunk niggers galore were everywhere. There was no respect in the room. So the inevitable was bound to happen….and it did.
After calling for an intermission, I saw people at the front of the room turn around and point to the back of the room. Now, as a black person, it is innate that if ONE person runs, you all run. So when I saw the finger point to the back of the room my inner hood pounced into survival mode. I turned my head and saw a chair raise up and immediately land on this guy. I took off my 4 inch heels, hooked the corner and was out into the lobby running from the foolishness that was occurring just feet away from me. So apparently this fight broke out: (View at 1:32)
Yes, THIS is what happened at an award show. Source Awards on repeat. At 3:29 you hear a hood chick proclaim how people were leaving their things and how she had on $100,00 worth of jewelry on. Say it with me now..>WTF?! Why would ANYONE in this place have on a hundred thousand dollars worth of jewelry on? They may have…but I doubt it. And you immediately see a guy, ON CAMERA, admitting to stealling liquor out of the hotel after the fight broke out. Now I cant say this enough but WTF?!!!
After the first 4 fights broke out I was in the lower lobby. I witnessed the employee worker get his face damn near ripped off, I saw him pass us with napkins dripping his blood across the lobby floor. HE WAS AN INNOCENT BYSTANDER!!! I saw an older woman who was a vendor sitting at her table get pushed and hit once. SHE WAS AN INNOCENT BYSTANDER!!! There I was standing there, barefoot, in the lobby of a hotel with a sea of madness surrounding me and not knowing what to do next. I raced all the way upstairs and out of the hotel to be faced with Virginia Police Department decorated in riot gear. Nothing says game over like a VAPD pointing an AK 47 in your face telling you to keep it moving. If there wasnt foolishness inside, there was bound to be some foolishness outside. This had “accidental police shooting” written all over it.
We hopped back in my truck and we left with more than 25 police cars blocking any route back to the hotel. There was even a police SUV, a few streets over, with his lights off waiting to catch any more of the madness that may have trickled away from the hotel. What baffled me is the fact that 6, count them SIX, of the guys even recorded in this video in neon yellow shirts were covered in blood, ripped shirts, and bloody faces walked right out the front door of the hotel and passed by the cops. Now, if I were a snitch…. I would have brought attention to them. I would have said, these are the same motherfuckers who were JUST performing on the stage prior to the intermission. But I guess that would go against the hood code, right? Well damn it…. I aint from the hood.
Also, tune in tomorrow to read my blog 200 Men Said….Let aMan be a Man[<~Click here tomorrow]. Even though it deals with relationships…. how appropriate that it follows after this blog. It wasnt scheduled, but the universe works in mysterious ways.
Sincerely,
~*My Mother’s Daughter*~
*Click on Title and scroll down to read comments or to leave a comment.*~
A man’s arch nemesis has been and will ALWAYS be a woman’s intuition. I think it was apart of the deal when he snatched Adam’s rib. His rib contained 10% of Adam’s DNA which was a divine tracking device and lie detector. It lets the woman know when something isn’t right even when she can’t quite put a finger on it. I can’t describe it, but it is the oddest feeling in the entire world. She could just be sitting there when all of a sudden something tells her to call her man…..while on the other side of town he is getting his freak on with her best friend. Yes, it is like a face off between Batman and the Riddler. It is just this feeling…..
And as I thought about this topic… one of my favorite songs came to mind. Keri Hilson’s “Intuition”. Yes, this song just screams “I am woman, hear me roar. I know you did wrong, negro don’t play me. Now pack your shit and bounce.” hahahaha I don’t know if that was her intention when she wrote it, but that became my subtext when I heard it. I think it is all even, right? I mean… I know for a fact that EVERY woman pleading Intuition isn’t on the right path, but for the other 99.999999% of us who listen to our intuition for the right reasons, we are hardly ever wrong. A wise woman once told me that our intuition is God snitching on the universe. What an image, right…. but it works. So I go with my gut feelings majority of the time and I am right.
Now this song has a taste of both Indian and Asian instrumentation to it, and I think that would be a great place to start with my interpretation of the video.
I think that the video should start with Keri asleep in bed. As her man grabs the keys off the dresser and you see the door closing behind him.
“Intuition”
Whoa [3x]
Hey hey…
Keri pops up in bed and begins to look around. She leans over and looks out the window as she sees him backing out of the driveway.
[Chorus] I got this crazy feeling I’m gone be single again I know it, I can feel it I know you gone mess up
Keri gets out of bed and walks to throw on an Asian designer trench coat with a fidora, glances in the mirror by the front door, grabs her keys and hops in her car.
Wow, you really turn me on So I, I really hope I’m wrong [whoa] It would break my world If you ain’t true to me, yea But I’m not the silly girl I used to be And I Know how it goes yea
She comes to a light and sees his car outside of a massage parlor. Shot switches to her walking through the parlor looking for her guy. She catches him getting a massage in one of the rooms and she rubs her hands down his back. He pops up to look around but Keri is gone and in her car back home
[Pre-Chorus] Dude’s out here think they slick Got a lot of girls on they (dadadadada) And they can’t say no Steady telling me they ain’t you I’ma wait to see what you gone do Hope you know you got a good thing, yea
[Chorus] I got this crazy feeling I’m gone be single again I know it, I can feel it I know you gone mess up
I got this crazy feeling I’m gone be single again I know it, Its gone happen I know you gone mess up
Fast forward technique to push the story ahead a few hours. Scene stops at Keri fighting with a guy while she is wearing a kimono. The fight is brief and he walks out of the house. With Keri walking along the window of the house. Shot cuts to Keri walking along the glass window of an Asian restaurant with her “guy” sitting at a dinner table obviously waiting for someone for dinner. She is on her Inspector Black Chick trying to get a better view of him. The entire restaurant is filled with guys sitting at tables by themselves with an all female staff.
I, I love the way we fight so So, I hope this is all in my mind (hope it’s in my mind) Baby don’t you know It would break my world, if you ain’t true to me yea But I’m not the silly girl I used to be See I know how it goes
The servers in the restaurant and random staff members throughout the dining area join in for choreography. Some women are private detectives with cameras and notepads. The servers are performing choreography around the guy’s table that they are servicing, every guy but Keri’s. The servers collect glasses, and utensils CSI style and places them in an evidence bag, placed back on the serving tray and exit the dining area.
[Pre-Chorus] Dude’s out here think they slick Got a lot of girls on they (dadadadada) But they don’t say no Steady telling me they ain’t you I’ma wait to see what u gone do Hope you know you got a good thing cause I,
[Chorus] I got this crazy feeling I’m gone be single again I know it, I can feel it I know you gone mess up
I got this crazy feeling I’m gone be single again I know it, Its gone happen I know you gone mess up
Then you see everything go pitch black, when a spotlight pops up over one guy like an interrogation lamp. Keri walks up to the two-way window and her silhouette is seen dancing directly in front of her guy. Snippets of individual female detectives come into the light surrounding him.
Your gonna get too comfortable (you gone mess up) Gonna want something new babe (you gone mess up) Your gonna be just like the rest (you gone mess up) It’s gonna be you babe before me
They release him and he is free to leave. Keri is seen in a designer trench coat walking behind him out of the police station. He gets to his car and pulls off before her. She runs to her car and speeds off.
I trust my heart, broke down my guard I worked so hard to take good care of you
I trust my heart, broke down my guard I worked so hard, I hope it ain’t true
Keri begins to say this next part into her rear view mirror. She pulls up next to him, glances over, and then runs through a red light and he stops. She makes it home before him.
Look at me You wanna miss all this? Go ‘head Bring that back Whoa [3x]
As he reaches for the front door, Keri opens it in her Kimono and takes his hand to lead him upstairs.
It’s in my mind Whoa [3x] Hope its in my mind
There is a pan in shot of a photo in her bag of him sitting at the table in the restaurant by himself and then a figure of a woman fades into view in the chair across from him. She has on a fidora to cover her face and the video ends.
Yeh…I know. Wild and all over the place. But this has that Carmen San Diego feel about it. A woman detective going on a hunch. That inner voice telling her that something isn’t right. And though she may not have the proof… it’s there. So, that was my take on it…. did you like it?
Check back tomorrow when I ask my 200 Men about the 2 things they wish that women would stop doing. How does that tie into intuition? Well, we already know as women what we want guys to stop or start doing…so why not hear from them. Maybe these are the things that make them misbehave which in turn peaks our intuition. [Will insert Link here]
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I searched high and low for a song that I thought would speak of a woman’s worth that was not sung by Maxwell or Alicia Keys. I also wanted to mix that with a song that sang of an appreciation for an independent woman who was not put to a rap beat or came within ten feet of Destiny’s Child or Ne-Yo. So one day, listening to my Rhapsody playlist I came across one of my favorite singers, Lyfe Jennings, and his song Hero. Eureka! This is what the juggling of one’s balls must feel like… because I got a great feeling in my happy place when I heard this song. I thought…. this is as subliminal of a message as you can get when it comes to being an independent woman.
Tomorrow you will get to read my blog about what 200 Men Said…. An Independent Woman’s Place [<~Click Here to Read]….but today I wanted to celebrate her. I wanted to celebrate the independent woman free of a bitter bitch anthem and really vibe out to her without even saying the words “independent woman”…well, outside of this intro. Because a REAL independent woman does, a wannabe shouts about it. You will NEVER hear a REAL independent woman claim the title, but everyone else will call her one. It is in the core of who she is and everyone around her can feel her independent power and never feel negated by that power. And I wanted to celebrate her with a Lyrically Speaking song that many may not have heard;I think that Lyfe did a wonderful job in capturing that.
I see the opening of the video very reminiscent of a Superman meets Clark Kent moment. She should start in her Clark Kent stage with her hair down, cute little house dress via Victoria Secrets. Nothing kinky looking but short and regular but still seductive in nature. Think, her wearing his button-up or his college football jersey, etc. The shot should be Lyfe sitting at the kitchen table finishing off dinner as he starts singing and then gets up to put his plate in the sink walking directly up behind his “Hero”. And he should grab her and maaaaaaybe give her a pelvic thrust on the last line.
Verse 1
Superman can’t cook chicken like this, (this)* And Wonder Woman can’t french kiss, (kiss) Aladdin only gave me one wish (wish), That’s yo body
She playfully pushes him away and starts to back up because she knows where this is heading. Lyfe follows and presses her up against the wall just as he says the last line.
Spiderman don’t forgive me when I’m wrong, (wrong) Batman don’t look good in that thong, (thong) Catwoman don’t keep me rock this long (long) That’s yo body
Then I think that he should stay still as she leaves from under him. He then turns and leans on the wall where she once was as there is a speed reel like in Adam Sandler’s movie CLICK where he presses fast forward and everything but him speeds up. His “Hero” is shown getting the kids ready for extracurricular activities like football and karate practice, leaving to take them and returning. Leaving to get groceries, and returning with bags. She drops one in fast mode and “Regular Speed” Lyfe catches the bag and sets it on the counter. She’s even seen cleaning the house and putting the kids to bed before it comes back to regular speed as she is closing the door to the kids’ room; throughout this Lyfe is walking regular speed.
[Chorus:] It’s a bird, (it’s a bird) it’s a plane, (it’s a plane) it’s an angel down here With no wangs, it’s a bird, (it’s a bird) it’s a plane, (it’s a plane) short shorty It’s the hero song everybody sing along. You are my hero (hero), you don’t need a costume everybody knows your name, The greatest hero (hero) you can make me feel good even when your miles away. You are my hero (hero) you can make the sun shine even when the sky is gray, The greatest hero (hero) one kiss from your lips and all my troubles fly away.
She is seen walking seductively down the hallway headed towards Lyfe who is sitting at a keyboard. She places a bowl of soup on the table next to him right before she straddles across his lap and they are looking into his each other’s eyes before they kiss. Lyfe picks her up and walks over to the bed and gently lays her down as the shot pans beyond him to the window to watch the sky change from night to day.
Verse 2
Wolverine can’t cheer me up when I’m sad, (sad) Captain America can’t slow dance, (dance) Hulk can’t make a boy feel like a man (man) That’s Yo body
Aguaman can’t work a job with two kids, (kids) Iceman can’t cook soup when I’m sick, (sick) Wonder Twins don’t know how to work this stick (stick, stick) That’s yo body
[CHORUS]
It’s a bird, (it’s a bird) it’s a plane, (it’s a plane) it’s an angel down here With no wangs, it’s a bird, (it’s a bird) it’s a plane, (it’s a plane) short shorty It’s the hero song everybody sing along. You are my hero (hero), you don’t need a costume everybody knows your name, The greatest hero (hero) you can make me feel good even when your miles away. You are my hero (hero) you can make the sun shine even when the sky is gray, The greatest hero (hero) one kiss from your lips and all my troubles fly away.
As the view pans back out Lyfe is laying in bed by himself asleep as she walks into view fully dressed for work but now she is in Superman mode; hair in a bun, power suit, and heels with brief case. She shakes him and walks out of the room. Now every shot her “Superman” outfit changes. She gets to the hallway to call for the kids and she looks like a Doctor, walks into the kitchen to hand them their lunches and she now looks like a police offer. Walking to the front door she looks like a waitress. By then Lyfe has made it there and given her a kiss and as the shot goes to her pulling back from the kiss in front of the open door.The next shot is her outside as she closes the front door to head to the car as a pregnant stay-at-home mom.
Up and away (up and away) off to work she leaves, back at four thirttttttty, we’ll make love till we fall asleep, when we wake up, she’ll put on that cape again, me and my hero, me and angel, me and my girl and my best friend.
Lyfe goes into the kitchen and pours himself a bowl of cereal and walks into the family room and sits on the couch during this next few bars.
You are my hero (hero) you don’t need a costume everybody knows your name, the greatest hero (hero) you can make me feel good even when your miles away, you are my hero (hero) you can make the sun shine even when the sky is gray. the greatest hero (hero) one kiss from your lips and all my troubles fly away. (yeah)
Just as he sits, his “Hero” is seen walking into the house with the 3 kids running past her, no longer pregnant. She stops in the doorway and she undoes the bun in her hair as Lyfe calls her into the family room where Captain America & Friends is on TV. She is now back in the same mode that she was in at the start of the video; loose hair, glasses, and comfortable cute house dress with footy socks. She sits down & cuddles next to him and he hands her the bowl of cereal and wraps his arms around her as the song goes off.
Shorty this the hero song, everybody sing along Shorty this the hero song, everybody sing … Shorty this the hero song everybody sing along, Shorty this the hero song, thank you for singing along
Yeh…. if I had a say so in the video…. that is EXACTLY how I would direct it. I think it tells a tale of how the every day woman can, in fact, be a hero. These are the unsung independent women that don’t seek praise nor boast about their independent power, but they are independent women just the same. I don’t know Lyfe’s intentions when he wrote the song, but I am in LOVE with it. It is my own personal anthem because this is the kind of woman who I am and would like to continue to be. So, I salute Lyfe for this song and I salute the true independent women who don’t apologize for being the women that they are because they don’t have to. And that is said without attitude or pride. Dont get that confused with the need to shout your independence from the mountain tops running all the good men away. Or feeling that you need to shout it to get a strong man to want to be with you. Trust me, wannabes…..if you shut the fuck up… he will come. lmao! And that is all I have to say about that.
These are gonna be the longest 3 years. But we’ll be here waiting for your return Lyfe. God bless!
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I’ll never forget where I was when I first heard this song. I was on the phone with my high school sweetheart after about a year of me not speaking to him. He was back at his old tricks of trying to get me to fall for him all over again. He told me to check out this song, and I had never even heard of the artist, much less the song….but I said that I would. And I did. Loved it. Thought that I should burst out into singing “Killing Me Softly” because Urban Mystic was telling my whole life with his words.
This song has that high school feel. That, “talking on the phone all night or at least holding the phone as you fall asleep” type feel. This song just oozes the rekindling of an old flame. This is NOT the song you need to play while you are engaged to your future wife ( just saying) lmao!. But it does have that “tug on the heartstrings of hopeless romantics who cant wait to be with their first loves just once more” type feel.
The intro is enough to make you call everyone in your black book and make individual appointments. lol
Intro:urban(woman) yo baby (what?s up) what we had was so special (yea I know) what you doin now (left my man back at the 9 to 5 just trying to make things work) Yeah, I never thought I?d see you again (and I never thought I?d see you again) yeah, (what a coincidence) well that?s how things happen (yea I know, I wanna have you just one more time) But you know what (what’s that) You know what?s odd (what is it)
Her tone is just begging for him to come and get it. It’s almost as if she planned for them to meet again. Like she searched for him and put herself in a place to be strategically found by him. I’m not mad at her. I would do the same damn thing…lol I mean, how simple is the intro? But this is about as kinky as Teddy Pendergrass talking over a track. It says “Get those panties off… TAKE ‘EM OFF!” lmao.
Verse 1: What are the odds of me bumping into you again (one in a million) What are the odds of me seeing my first lover friend (two in a million) It’s been two years since we both graduated, I still can feel how we both celebrated I can’t get over your voice on my phone, we’ve been apart for so long.
This takes me back to that time when you locked eyes with the person that you love after being apart for so long. Or even the thought of them that sends chills down your spine and ends at your happy place. I mean really… they had to have been something special that without even touching you or being in the same room with you they can make you smile and head towards a cold shower. What are the odds of every person doing that to you? Zero in a million.
Chorus: So I refuse to wait, my patience is out the door baby I refuse to hear you say, u don’t want me no more baby I refuse to blame, you for anything – me for any thing lets not take finding each other in vain, its not a coincidence baby
Obviously, all is forgiven or they are just that horny. lol. I mean he is not even wanting to hold a grudge. I mean she has GOT to have kryptonite in her panties to get a man to go out on a limb like this. I’m still having a hard time trying to figure out if this is love or lust, but in the moment of passion I don’t think that it really matters, now does it? lol
Verse 2: Remember we use to sneak off when your mama dosed off Hit the back seat of my Chevy fog up the windows Made love to sweet lady our favorite song kept it moving slow and steady to the tempo Then we would lay there and hold on to each other like there wasn’t a tomorrow I can’t get over your voice on the phone, we’ve been apart for so long
LMAO!!! See parents….THIS is why you should equip your child with house arrest ankle bracelets! lol. Teach your girls that leather burn is a hoe’s tattoo…lol. This verse in and of itself just keeps me cracking up! It is so romantic, and so serious, yet hilariously funny because someone , somewhere has done some…if not all..of this at one point in time in their life. And there he is remembering it all years later. See…if you got that Good Good ladies they will always remember. Better yet, he will admit to cuddling!!!!!!! Chorus repeats and then…..
Verse 3
You know, damn well, you’re suppose to be in my life Riding by my side (Oh yeah yeah) You know, damn well, you’re suppose to be coming home to me every night
Baby if you’re not that far away Maybe we can spend the day Catch up on all the loving we lost Let me kiss you in your favorite place
So….. if he doesn’t get what he wants he damn near gets beligerent..lol. YOU KNOW DAMN WELL, WOMAN! All he wants to do is kiss you in your favorite place. Just KINKY!!! KINKY , I TELL YA! lol. Yep.. been there. Had the kind of passion where you knew better than to be left alone in the same place with that other person because baby making would surely follow no matter the consequences…. *shakes head at the thought* Sorry, had a flash back…lmao!
Well, every time I listen to this song I think of what I went through that made this song so relevant to me. I thank the person who decided to bring it to my attention and I will always hold a special place for this song in my heart. Tales like this really do happen in real life….and I am a witness to it. Unfortunately, it doesn’t always turn out to be a love connection….but the memories are a nice reminder of what love can look like. It gives you hope of what is in the future. And if nothing else, it is just nice to know that you are wanted. I refuse to lose hope for love. I simply refuse to.
P.S. I also refuse not to die laughing at the fact that the model who Tyra Banks yelled at is in this video. lmao.
P.P.S. I refuse to fight the urge to call him K-C from Jodeci. lmao!
Sitting peacefully in my office, supposedly being productive when Pandora hits me with the gift of Neo-Soul‘s Past; India Arie‘s Talk to Her. I could have jumped up and belted this entire song out loud in my office without caring what anyone thought of me. Yes, this song spoke to my soul and I was prepared to be escorted out of the building by Federal Police. This was truly worth it. I immediately searched for the mp3 on the internet and placed it on repeat. I have a feeling that this CD will be played when I get home and immediately placed on my mp3 player.
Why the excitement? Well… its India Arie! I can remember how I was first introduced to her and I became hooked and have bought every CD since. Not the iTunes….no, the CD!! I just have faith that every time I buy an India Arie project I will be able to listen to it from start to finish without complaint and that faith is bigger than a mustard seed. And I have to tell you, I have NEVER been disappointed. EVERY project is my favorite. SO much so, I had to stay away from her when she came to Busboys and Poets in DC because I didn’t want to hug her and get arrested like a crazed groupie. I was more than that… I was a supporter. Yes, ever since the day my little hippie friend Erin and her dark brown hair and glasses told me to listen to Brown Skin, I was hooked. Of course I wanted to know what a little white girl knew about Brown Skin, but she told me that her friend in Atlanta heard her and she wondered if I knew. Well… I didn’t and I felt excited that she had told me.
The very first time that I heard this song I pictured that India Arie was a teacher in a class and the students were all teen black males & females. This song would be the lesson of the day. Essence and Vibe magazines would be the text books on every desk. Lyrics to the song would be written on the board, college lecture style. It would be a modern-day Lean on Me. Yes, I can picture it….or something like it. What if…..
The video would start off with India Arie walking down a row of desks placing the last of the “text books” on the individual desk in preparation for the arrival of the students back from lunch and/or recess. While singing she places the last book and then walks to write the topic “Talk to Her” on the chalkboard. A disagreement between a boy and his girlfriend comes into the shot and India walks over to the window.
Chorus:
When you talk to her talk to her Like you want somebody to talk to you mama Don’t get smart with her have a heart to heart with her Just like you would with your daughter Cause everything you do or say You gotta live with it everyday She’s somebody’s baby She’s somebody’s sista She’s somebody’s mama
When she gets to the window and raises the window up even higher and sticks her head outside. The girlfriend storms away crying and India grabs the arm of the boy and sings the first verse to him.
Verse 1 Now when you got to her speak truthfully Be honest as you can be, from your heart You’re in a situation, where ya losing patience Take your time and look her in the eye When you just can’t find the words you want And it’s hard to reach the point Where you both can understand Don’t just tell the truth But,Tell the whole truth It’ll make a better man outta you
She gently touches his face and closes the window. Then in the background you see girls jumping rope and they become the background singers for this part. The guy apologizes and they make up. The Bell rings and everyone heads into the school towards the end of the chorus.
Chorus:
When you talk to her, talk to her Like you want somebody to talk to your mama Don’t get smart with her have a heart to heart With her just like you would with your daughter Cause everything you do or say You gotta live with it everyday She’s somebody’s baby She’s somebody’s sista She’s somebody’s mama
Scene switches to India Arie walking down the school halls. Girls wearing short skirts can be seen with guys whistling and attempting to pull up their dresses. India jumps in to correct the situation….. Words are spoken to both the boys and the girls to prove her point.
Verse 2:
It doesn’t matter if she’s wearin A mini skirt or a business suit Whether she’s 25 or 99 Treat her the way your mama taught you to She could be the Queen of Sheba She could be a school teacher Home maker or a lawyer I think it’s good for your Karma If when ya talk to her…
Female teachers open class doors to join in ask the chorus is being sung. They usher the students into the classrooms leaving India in the halls by herself.
Chorus:
When you talk to her, talk to her Like you want somebody to talk to your mama Don’t get smart with her have a heart to heart With her just like you would with your daughter Cause everything you do or say You gotta live with it everyday She’s somebody’s baby She’s somebody’s sista She’s somebody’s mama
India can be seen walking past a boys’ and girl’s restroom and them comes to a stop underneath a clock with hands that are speeding up the time of day and to suggest that times are changing. She continues to walk towards the auditorium.
Verse 3 Now let’s keep it real Nothing in this world could ever exist Without it’s opposite There has to be a sun and moon A man and a woman And that’s just the way it is Humanity’s lop sided And everyone’s fightin’ How do we restore the peace Mother earth is hurtin’ And everyone is searchin’ For the feminine energy
The doors of the auditorium open to the students being adult men and women. India goes and takes her place standing in her place as a teacher, much like that scene in Lean On Me where the teachers stood in the isle. She has an envelope in hand.
Chorus:
When you talk to her talk to her Like you want somebody else to talk to your mama (Watch your mouth, yeah yeah) Don’t get smart with her have a heart to heart With her just like you would with your daughter Cause everything you do or say You gotta live with it everyday She’s somebody’s baby She’s somebody’s sista She’s somebody’s mama
The camera would pan over the “students” matching each line of the Vamp. A brother stands up to fight when a guy says something to his sister, you see usual teen behavior at an assembly; paper throwing, joking, etc.
Vamp
When you talk to her talk to her Like you want somebody to talk to your mama Just like you fight for your sister If you knew that somebody dissed her How you gonna care for your daughter Turn around and talk bad about her mama Same way you listen to your auntie Never interrupt while she speaks Make your words sweet like candy As if you were talking to your granny yeah
The male principal is on stage speaking as he looks up and locks eyes with India. He smiles, continues the speech to the “students”. This would even be an amazing time to have cameos from the Lean On Me cast…lol
If you really love her then (say so) If you really need her then (say so) Love the way she thinks (say so) You love the way she speaks (say so) When you need some good conversation (say so) Say so (say so) If you want her in your life (say so) You want her to be your wife (say so) Tell her she’s your best friend (say so) (alright) You’ll be there to the end (alright)(say so)
Camera pans in on India looking at the envelope in her hand which is suggested to have been a resignation letter and she tears it in half. Principal dismisses the students and seen goes to everyone filing out of the auditorium and leaving the school building. One of the other female teachers playfully hits her as she walks to the curb.
If you’re thinking about leaving (say so) If you wonder where she’s going (say so) If you need to breathe with her (say so) You just want to be with her (say so) If you love her hair (say so) If you want her there (say so) Tell me if you really want her (say so) You wanna slap her down (say so) Say so… (You better not hit no woman, you done bumped yo’ head) If you feel like loving (say so) If you wanna feel the hugging (say so)
A car pulls up and in the driver seat is a man who she leans in and kisses on the cheek and the car pulls off.
Yeh…. that’s exactly how I pictured it. But who am I…. just a borderline obsessed fan.. and I mean that in the MOST respectful, “no restraining order needed” kind of way. I think that India, in all of her beauty, both vocally and physically would make my vision so beautiful. But she needs no help in that department. I pray she is as strong and direct and humble as I perceive her to be. I see God in her….And that is all that I have to say about that. Enjoy!
P.S.~ Check out my other post called 200 Men Said…. Oedipus’ Words. It is apart of my 200 Men Said…. series where I asked the men if they’ve ever said something to a woman that they wouldn’t want anyone to say to their mother. The answers will surprise you.
Like Waka Flocka at all of his paid performances, I am at a loss for words. I mean, I will make an honest attempt to give some form of props in the middle of this mess….but no promises.
Waka Flaka’s No Hands is a very trendy and catchy beat and chorus that has teens from DC to Japan screaming “Look ma, no hands” and even though I have been guilty of bobbing to it in my own house and subconsciously learning the lyrics thanks to constant rotation on the radio, I wouldn’t want anyone else learning it. Hypocrite? Yes, and rightfully so. I’m old enough to know what the lyrics of the song mean. I wish I could sit a class down and deconstruct these lyrics. It’s the teen group that I want to stop from bobbing to this, because the girls are the first ones to jump up and prove to the boys that they are the best “No Hands” chick in the building, and the boys continue to think that treating these girls as such is what the girls want because they aren’t showing them otherwise.
I remember when Hip-Hop use to make us think, you to get you amped up to do something, but now this rap stuff is for no other use than to degrade and get your head bobbing in the club. Being, indirectly, from the south you would think that I was proud of the south’s musical (lack of) achievements. I mean, the Stanky Leg and No Hands should be enough to make me rep’ my city….right? Not so much. Okay…enough of my banter… lets look at these lyrics. The same lyrics that get bleeped out on the radio and make it sound just a little bit cleaner than what it was ever intended to be……those edited lyrics are WAY better than what is said.
Chorus:
Roscoe;Chorus:] Girl the way you’re movin’ Got me in a trance DJ turn me up Ladies dis yo jam I’ma sip Moscato And you ‘gon lose dem pants Then I’ma throw this money While you do it with no hands Girl drop it to the flo’ I love the way yo booty go All I want to do is sit back And watch you move And I’ll proceed to throw this cash
Fiiiiiiiirst off! Roscoe has a daughter. I keep trying to tell people how this whole ” I will corrupt your sons and daughters while I protect my own seed” mentality is a bunch of bullshit! Some lil boy is going to grow up thinking that this is how to treat a woman, therefore making his daughter’s chances of finding a decent man who doesn’t want her just for her money slim to impossible!!! I can’t shout this enough. So he is telling you that this is your song & you’ve got to take your pants off BEFORE he’ll give you any money. Okay… on to the king of stupidity.
Verse 1:
Waka;Verse 1:] (Waka, Waka, Waka, Flocka, Whoa, Whoa) All that ass In yo jeans Can Wale beat Can Roscoe skeet Long hair she don’t care When she walk she get stares Brown skin or a yellow-bone DJ this my favorite song So I’ma make it thunderstorm Bud, want it, Flocka, yea Blowin’ ,fuck it, i dont care Chests’ flyin’ everywhere Got my partner Roscoe, like bruh I’m drinkin’, help, can’t you tell Booze help me hit them 15 steps I’m fuckin’, well i’m tryna hit the hotel With 2 girls that swallow me Take this dick while swallow Pay moscato got her freaky Aye you got me in a trance Please take off yo pants Pussy pop on her handstand You got me sweatin’ Please pass me a fan damn!
After the “Shawt Bus Shawty intro……(Waka Waka Waka Waka). Ummmm…. So, he doesn’t even want to sleep with you. He just wants to ask if his boy can beat it and then can his OTHER boy skeet it? Classy! I mean…this should have all the girls out on the dance floor dancing like coons, booty tooted up in the air! And one wants to beat it…..sooooo is the other sitting in the corner holding his skeet? Or is he beating himself while the other beats and then they tag team WWE style while one now skeets on her and the other contains his skeet because that wasnt apart of the contractual agreement? Okay… I thought too much into that, but why say it if it doesn’t make any logical sense? So…further in the verse you are only good enough to suck him off because he doesn’t think you’re quite fuckable material because you might get pregnant and he doesn’t want that. And the first southern grammatical stab is “Chests'” ….pronounced by Waka as “Chest-is” LMAO!!! You showl is edjumikated. And I think he had a bout with schizophrenia in the middle when we asked himself if he wanted bud…and then answered himself. But….next!
After a flare of the chorus again……..
Verse 2:
[Wale;Verse 2:] (Aye, aye, Wale, uh) She said look ma no hands She said look ma no hands And no darling I don’t dance And, I’m with Roscoe, I’m with Waka I think i deserve a chance I’m a bad mothafucka Gon’ ask some mothafuckas A young handsome mothafucka I sling that wood I just nun chuck ’em And, who you wit And, what’s yo name And, you not hear boo, I’m Wale And, that D.C. shit I rep all day And, my eyes red cuz of all that haze Don’t blow my high Let me shine Drumma on the beat Let me take my time Nigga want beef we can take it outside Fight for what broad These hoes ain’t mine Is you out yo mind You out yo league I sweat no bitches Just sweat out weaves Where our tracks Let me do my thing I got 16, for this Roscoe thing But, i’m almost done Let me get back to it Whole lotta loud And a little backwood Whole lotta money Big tip I would I put her on the train Little engine could, bitch
I know this is just a song, but she was proud enough to show her mother how she does it without hands? I wish I would!!! My mother would hop up from the grave and pimp slap me with the withering hang of my ancestors if I EVER did that in front of her. I’m still afraid to do stuff in my own house in fear that her spirit can see… & I am grown! lol. Nunchucks are weapons…..domestic violence is not cute metaphorically or literally….NEXT! Ummm what the fuck does “You not hear” mean? Is that suppose to be “you can’t hear” or “havent you heard” or am I bugging? Nope, not bugging… he did graduate from PG County public schools. I know… I live here…lmao! And just in case you thought that he would protect your honor after you gave up the ass…. think again! You hoes arent his! lol And just when you wanted frequent flier miles… he plans on straight up Amtraking your ass…..am I making my point?
And last but definitely not least:
Verse 3:
[Roscoe;Verse 3:] (Roscoe Dash, let’s go) R-O-S-C-O-E-Mr. shawty put it on me I be goin’ ham Shawty upgrade from baloney Them niggas tippin’ good Girl but I can make it flood Cuz I walk around With pockets bigger that are than my bus Rain, rain go away That’s what all my haters say My pockets stuck on overload My reign never evaporates No need to eleborate Most of these ducks exaggerate But, i’ma get money nigga Everyday stuntin’ nigga Ducks might get a chance after me Bitch i’m ballin’ Like i’m comin’ off of free throws Cuz the head of the game No cheat codes Lambo, Roscoe No street code And your booty got me lost like Nemo Go, go, go G-gon’ and do yo dance And, i’ma throw this money While you do it wit no hands (GO!)
My hoe has a first name its, Y-O-U-S-A; my hoe has a last name, its B-I-T-C-H! lol. SO between ham and bologna, he only deals with basic bitches. No steak, no filet mignon, hell….not even turkey? This is a classy negro ladies… he will spend the best on his bitches! And I think that he happens to have a fetish with Ducks…..dont go to Disney World and leave him alone with Donald. Trust me…..the water metaphors are freaking me out. And he might not even really like women because he really only talked about himself through the whole verse. Was this to redeem himself for even being apart of this fucked up coonery in the first place? At least he spoke the best English in the song. COONSTATSTIC!
I tried to find some praise in there… this is how I really feel about this song. Bounce if you must….but this is just HORRIBLE! Okay.. I’m done. Until I get some liquid courage in my system at a private house party and I begin to jam to this. What? I wanna do it with no hands…I’ve been practicing Yoga. lol
I think every woman over the age of 25 remembers where they were the moment that they first heard this song. It was probably with a group of your closest girlfriends, in your house hugging a tub of Ben & Jerry’s bawling over his dumbass, kneeling down in a parking lot slicing tires, or face to face with the ‘ova bitch! Either way….everyone can relate to this song; Erykah Badu’s Tyrone.
I must admit that as an impressionable 17 year-old when it was first released, this song is the sole reason why I have never, and will never, be in a cohabitation situation with my significant other before marriage. I mean, what if my man turns out to be Tyrone’s homeboy and his name is on the lease? Too much drama for a teen to comprehend, right? I mean, Erykah has this way of telling a story that makes you visualize the story, so I visualized every verse and made up in my mind, in advance, how the hell I would ever handle a situation should I ever have to.
SO, listening to the live version, she calmly asks the sisters if they are alright, followed by the brothers….without any warning of the first verse. The women IMMEDIATELY begin to cheer, but there was not a brotherly tone in the mix agreeing to shit. I think they took it personally. lol
First verse:
Alright
I’m gettin tired of your shit You don’t never buy me nothin’ See every time you come around You got to bring Jim, James, Paul and Tyrone
See why can’t we be by ourselves sometimes See I’ve been having this on my mind for a long time I just want it to be you and me like it used to be, baby But you don’t know how to act, so matter fact
WOW! Bold, right off the front, “I’m getting tired of your shit”. Cant you just picture her sitting on the edge of her couch in the dark, Angela Basset after torching all his shit, Waiting to Exhale Style,and just blurting that out as soon as he walks into the front door? lol. How empowering! I mean, when I broke-up with my high school sweetheart 3 years later….that’s EXACTLY how it went down. He walked past me a few times and I just blurted it out. I wish I had used “I’m Getting tired of your shit” , it sounds more direct and poignant…lol.
And what was up with his friends’ names? Was he a rejected, ghetto disciple? Missing member of the Black Beatles cover band? And here she was just wanting to spend time with her man, but NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO it was all about his boys. I say, if you like your boys so much…have sex with them and leave me alone. lol.
Chorus
I think you better call Tyrone (Call him) And tell him come on, help you get your shit (Come on, come on, come on) You need to call Tyrone (Call him) And tell him I said come on
Now the chorus comes in right as she flicks on the corner light switch that casts a shadow on her profile. And in chimes her bitter ass friends that you didn’t even see sitting at the kitchen table to the left, high-fiving & playing Pinochle, “Call Him!” . Just in case you didn’t hear what she meant she articulates the “T” perfectly clear on the end of shit. I think this is the most clarified execution of the English language in an urban song in the years prior to Cee-lo Green’s Fuck You. It is a mantra that is tugging at the strings of every man’s pride, and the back-up singers are like kryptonite. Almost like a fly that keeps buzzing in your ear, and you didn’t even request their input…but here they go, “Come on, Come on, Come on!” Almost like a ” Nigga, I wish you would” threat from the days of old when Big Mama heard you whisper under your breath.
Second Verse:
Now every time I ask you for a little cash You say nawl but turn right around and ask me for some ass Oh well hold up listen partna I ain’t no cheap thrill ‘Cuz Miss Badu’s always comin for real, you know the deal nigga
Every time we go somewhere I gotta reach down in my purse To pay your way and your homeboy’s way And sometimes your cousin’s way
They don’t never have to pay Don’t have no cars, hang around in bars Try to hang around with stars Like Badu I’m gonna tell you the truth Show improve or get the boot
This verse was the one that made me NEVER ask any of my dudes for cash. I doubt I will ever ask my husband for money. I come with my own. I’ll never have to place my needs in a battle over a booty bargaining chip. Not gonna happen here! And even though the first and second stanza clashes with who really brings in the finances of the house, I WISH A NEGRO WOULD make me pay for his way and that of his boys. That would be the deal breaker right there. I’m not saying that I will never pay for my man…occasionally ( unless the circumstances are out of the ordinary) but I’ll never pay for his boys and my MAN wouldn’t let me. Just saying. I will also turn my other cheek to the double negative in the “I aint no”, “Dont have no cars” & “They don’t never” lines. The line, “”You dont never buy me nothing” was a triple negative and I am unable to comprehend that. This song is too amazing for me to attack her grammatical structure, too hard. But it will have to be a -6 points against R&B.
And after another round of the chorus, the crowd ( women only) are chanting the lyrics and loving every moment of it. And then she hits the end of the song with the BEST ending to a song that has yet to be outdone. As her friends get up from the table to block the dude from stepping further into the house, Erykah leans back calmly on the couch and clicks off the lamp and pimpously says
But you can’t use my phone
HOW PIMP IS THAT!!!!! A Pimp Named Slickback & Powder need to learn a thing or two from Pimp Bad-du….cause that was vicious! I give this a stamp of approval for having constant play in my MP3 & CD player!
So if you read my other blog post 
A man’s arch nemesis has been and will ALWAYS be a woman’s intuition. I think it was apart of the deal when he snatched Adam’s rib. His rib contained 10% of Adam’s DNA which was a divine tracking device and lie detector. It lets the woman know when something isn’t right even when she can’t quite put a finger on it. I can’t describe it, but it is the oddest feeling in the entire world. She could just be sitting there when all of a sudden something tells her to call her man…..while on the other side of town he is getting his freak on with her best friend. Yes, it is like a face off between Batman and the Riddler. It is just this feeling…..
I searched high and low for a song that I thought would speak of a 
I’ll never forget where I was when I first heard this song. I was on the phone with my high school sweetheart after about a year of me not speaking to him. He was back at his old tricks of trying to get me to fall for him all over again. He told me to check out this song, and I had never even heard of the artist, much less the song….but I said that I would. And I did. Loved it. Thought that I should burst out into singing “Killing Me Softly” because Urban Mystic was telling my whole life with his words.
Sitting peacefully in my office, supposedly being productive when Pandora hits me with the gift of 
~*2Deep*~ Uncensored! 