Who You Gonna Love?
This ain’t the story of a black girl who caint keep ha legs closed
Or spends her time masturbating
dreaming of sweet nothings till 3
Or manifesting a 6-foot-tall boyfriend
crying to Trey Songz on repeat
She don’t brag
about the people she fucked with
Or diss the ones she couldn’t
And she sure as hellllll
Don’t whine about the one that got away
She just wants the money
Who you gonna love but the money
People wonder where her parents went wrong
The problem is they need to worry about they welfare application
While she worries about which color nail polish best matches her new thong
They say she need somebody her own age
To set her straight
But the black boys want
and light-skinned Trinity to be bae
Who cares about love
When the money keeps you warm
She thanks God up above
For her majestic form
She just like the way the money feel
Like a blanket
Against her skin
When life gets too real
She can fade into the dollar signs
Her medicine is amnesia
In her head
She counts bills on the way to church
She count on em on the way to work
She dream about it before she go to sleep at night
She play Luther Vandross and cry about the times when the money was light
And she gave too many fucks
And she let them hit without pay
And she was down on her luck
And no one was her saving grace.
She ain’t yo mama.
She ain’t yo sister.
She ain’t yo grandma.
And she ain’t yo girlfriend.
SHE’S THE QUEEN OF THE JUNGLE
THE QUEEN OF THE MONEY
Who you gonna love but the money?
Edited by: Ava Emilione