She was the bitterest of bitter bitches,
lacking loyalty like street snitches.
She was my Supreme Queen,
the deliverer of deferred dreams.
She gave you more than one shot,
a constant opportunity knock – er,
oh her, YES.
She was my large sweet tea.
She was my summer, summer, summertime.
She was that cutie with the fat booty.
Yes she was, the BEST, yaaaassss.
Except when she wasn’t.
She could be the bitterest of bitter bitches,
She could manually Emanuel-ly emasculate you,
With parking tickets, school yard pickets,
Black brothers on the corner gettin’ shot by blue bigots.
Yes, she was the realest of the realest, nothin’ basic about her.
The taste of summer seductions, electrifying July 4th eruptions
fall back, spring forward just enjoy it, until this…
the bitter bitch snitches. She’s ice cold.
No more summer seduction.
She doesn’t even know my name.
But still I love her.