Pain and suffering,
Trial and tribulation,
Heart breaking sensation...
Do you know?
Do you know what it's like to be black in America?
Do you know what it's like being a black woman in America?
Fighting two barriers of inequality every single day...
Race and gender.
Trying our hardest to rise above our oppressors
We stand tall and stand proud,
Demanding our equal rights in the crowd
We are conflicted...
Conflicted with the image that society has painted for us…
Are we supposed to be loud and angry or submissive and dainty?
Am I supposed to be your mammy or am I supposed to stand up to your tyranny?
No matter what we try, we are seen as too hard or too soft…
Where does my mysterious happy medium exist?
Tell me why I am being put in a box just for you to suppress my superiority?
I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired,
You need to see that I am not skin and I am not my gender,
I'm not saying I'm a pretender and I'm definitely not suggesting color blindness...
I'm simply saying that black women are humans with feelings,
and we are fed up with dealing with this cruel and wicked world…
Don't belittle me or swaddle me because you're scared of my potential!
Damn it, let me be great because in the words of Andra Day, I will rise up, rise like the day...
I will find a place on this earth where I will be celebrated and elevated, appreciated and educated, and my black girl magic can radiate,
So when I come out on top there'll be no debate, when my melanated self says checkmate...