Either light skin, from struggle,
And being raped by the enemy,
Or dark skinned, pure,
You still outshine the sun,
I'd lessun the black woman's beauty,
By even comparing her to a rose,
Just suppose,

A sista', means a sister,
But not blood related,
So I'm elated that you chose me,
So I'm gon' plant you where the rose be,
But make your soil better, 'cause we still carry the ground,
But make your soul wetter, with each sweet flurry of sound,

My girl, no my woman, or better yet my lady,
Oh excuse me, I'm sorry, better yet your own laady,
Independent, yet dependent on your repititious position,
So with this, I set my whole plan into fruition,
My submission to your will,
Yet I still mold my golden queen,
But you're two centuries stronger than steel,
So we compromise, and both lean,

Rest your head on my shoulder,
When your road gets rough,
I'll be your rock, your boulder,
When you've stood too much,
Plant a seed of hope within your heart,
And let it grow with affection,
Though we ain't jolted at the start,
We headed in the right direction,
Never stressing, condesending,
Kept me sane in a world that's crazy,
Our path, 360 degrees, never ending,
Now you trapped in my world, in a role as my lady...