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Thursday, February 11, 2010

Poem from/for Slams: Ode to a Video Vixen (Katrina) 111209

Why is it only considered Hip Hop if the beat knocks and chicks pop naked asses in the air and call rappers pops?
That's not your daddy!
And although he may seem to be every black girls dream, he's not trying to get to know you he's trying
 to get into your jeans.
And every time you give him  head and spread your legs, and invite him into your bed you're letting him
 into your head.
Giving him power to embed more seeds of low self esteem, instead of empowering yourself.
Basically you sell your body just to be in the presence of his wealth.
Well what's his money going to help when fate's cards are dealt?
When you're alone and he's getting dome from someone else?
When your feelings are invested, this rapper that you slept with probably doesn't care; he's probably
 off some where throwing dollars into the air.
The limelight starts to fade, and you're feeling like a lemon and the money that you thought you were
 getting he's no longer sending because he's moved onto the next.
What's terrible is that at best you're not even an ex;
You're now an industry chick that had sex for a check- an expensive whore.
 nothing less and nothing more.
The saddest part is, you were my homegirl from next door.
Video Vixen, Video Vixen, close your eyes and just listen
You idolize Melyssa Ford but life's lessons you're missing
Katrina
- Fayola Perry
(Copy written so don't copy me)

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