They call it nappy
I'm told to comb it
She said it was greasy
I say it's perfect
My hair...He said perm it
The stylist fainted
The products were not made for it
I say its beautiful
My hair...
Fashion says its tre's chic
Politics says I'm Pro-Black
Grandmother pulls out the hot comb
I say its me
My hair...
My spirit says I'm free
The umbrella stays in the car
My wallet has more money in it
I say no worries
My hair..
No crooks in my neck
Still getting weird looks
Strand test galore
I say I'm natural.
By: The Lost Girl
