Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Why are Blacks defending Paula Deen?

Blacks in America are currently under the first Black Presidency in history. Black Americans have seen Oprah Winfrey rise to Billionaire status and laws that shatter blockades in numerous areas for them. These are milestones, we have made it. But have we? Some Black scholars say that we were better off during segregation because we supported each other more, owned more of our own businesses and had a greater sense of community. We used our churches to mobilize civil rights movements, whereas today we use the church to demonize homosexuals.

What happened to our people? What happened to a people who raised their fists against racism? They've grown older and many have died. The newer generations, well, they are busy on their I Phones, playing Candy Crush and updating their Facebook statuses. They see a world through rose colored glasses while many Whites do not own those glasses and still see them as Niggers with brown, dirty skin.

Racism didn't just die just because a Pastor made a speech on the National Mall. Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. went through Hell and high water just to have Black people defend racists like Paula Deen?

Since this whole she-bang started with Paula Deen, I have gotten myself into numerous arguments with Blacks who do not seem to understand the big deal about Paula Deen using the word Nigger. Oh there is no reason to rally against her, they say, because Black people use the word nigger all of the time and we kill each other more than the white man has ever killed us...

So with this logic, why not defend the KKK who have killed Black people? Blacks kill each other right? So what's the big deal about racist rednecks killing us? I really am sick and tired of this coonish attitude of, THE BLACK MAN DOES IT, SO THE WHITE MAN CAN.

For me, it's about INTENT, and CONTEXT.

Frankly, there are many words in different social and ethnic groups, which only their group can use, and no one else can. Gay men can call their female friends "BITCHES" where a straight man better not or he will get knocked upside of his head!

Look, it is simple. Blacks use the word "NIGGA" without the "ER" on the end among each other. They took a negative word and made it into a term of endearment, therefore stripping it of its power. But it is a different word than the ER word. You don't hear Blacks saying, "WHAT'S UP MY NIGGER" no, they say, "Whats up my NIGGA!" When Paula Deen spoke to her husband, (according to the deposition) about that Black man who held a gun to her head, she referred to him as a "NIGGER" and not a "NIGGA." Furthermore, why would she use it in the "HIP HOP" sense, if she were speaking about someone who almost killed her? No she spoke NEGATIVELY about the Black man and used the most NEGATIVE word possible. Any White woman who can go on national TV and demean a Black man by equating his looks to a BLACK BOARD is ignorant. Any white person who can trivialize slavery by implying that White's know Blacks very well from their historical "close relationship" in the south is a racist. Ummm, Paula, we didn't ask for that "close-relationship" and that close-relationship is called SLAVERY.

And I am THROUGH with all of these Whites who hit me up in forums trying to argue with me about why they should be able to call me a nigger. Of course they use the rationale about rappers using it and Blacks calling each other NIGGA. They wonder what is so bad about the QUEEN OF THE CONFEDERACY calling us niggers and lodging butter up our asses so we don't feel its sting. TAKE A SEAT

The question I have for you is, Why are you so interested in using the word in the first place? Isn't it a bit tacky to argue with a Black person about why you can't call them a nigger? As if you are some spoiled self-entitled kid who has temper tantrums at Chuck E Cheese because you want your turn on the little horse.

And then there's the whole victim speech about how Blacks have called White's crackers and how is that any different...? blah blah blah. You know these accusations of double standards are more ridiculous than Kim Kardashian naming her baby North West. Cracker was derived from the CRACKING sound which the whip made before it violently struck the backs of slaves. Cracker meant, "The one who cracks the whip" and I am so sorry if Black people called your ancestors a bad name because they lynched and beat "niggers."

The word cracker is not used very often in modern society anyway and it is not involved in any major social or cultural arena like music. It has not been used in the same negative context historically for as long as the word nigger and it was used by an OPPRESSED people, not by anyone who OPPRESSES.

A White gentleman tried to tell me that the word NIGGER began as a term of endearment by the Whites, referring to the Latin and Spanish origins meaning "brown skin" BITCH PLEASE. They saw that brown skin and put a derogatory name to it. POINT. BLANK. PERIOD. You can quote Wikipedia all you want, but the word NIGGER was GIVEN to Africans, therefore how could it EVER have been positive?


I mean this woman is worse than Michelle Bachmann on her history. Look, we need to stop being afraid to use the race card when a White person already pulled it out, put strobe lights on it and blew it up 1000 times it's size!!! She is a White woman who uses the word NIGGER more loosely than NeNe Leakes uses the word "BITCH."

Have we become so "equal" that we defend racists so that we do not upset the Whites? Are we afraid of appearing too militant? Or are we so preoccupied with going against the "Angry Black" stereotype that we smile politely as Whites call us niggers and tell us to use the back door?
Cedric the Entertainer in "BARBER SHOP" making fun of Rosa Parks

Enough is enough. You ought to be ashamed of yourselves Black people! The White owners of the FOOD NETWORK fired her and here you are defending her?! When Whites are willing to see more racism than Blacks are willing to admit to seeing, then you know there is a problem.

I am almost ready for Obama to bring on some Jim Crow laws so that we can be reminded as to how much power we have together, just like any other ethnic group in the world. We are too busy killing each other and defending racists that we are blind to the reality of our backward motion. We are living in a time when BLACK ENTERTAINMENT TELEVISION is run by Viacom White people and more exploitation goes on there than on FOX NEWS. We are in a society where Tyler Perry showcases more "BLACK FACE" than Thomas D. Rice in "Jump Jim Crow" in 1828. You could swear to God a White man is behind that ghetto, exploitative, stereotype exploding, Madea face of make-up!
And his new show "Love Thy Neighbor" on OWN takes us back 50 years and is enough to make any Black person get another degree.

I am sick of hearing about Black rappers using the word Nigga and calling women hoes and bitches as some kind of excuse for racists to call us niggers. It is NOT a double standard for 50 Cent to say "NIGGA PLEASE," and for Black listeners to get upset over Paula Deen calling a Black man a nigger! It is a DIFFERENT CONTEXT and the intent of 50 CENT was not to be hateful. I feel like a lot of people today are afraid to use common sense and afraid to see the bowel movement because they don't want to smell it.
Tyler Perrys, "Love Thy Neighbor" on OWN is deplorable

Now what I can say, is that I do not agree with crying wolf every time something initially and subliminally SEEMS racist. I did not cry racism when Zimmerman was first arrested and let go in the Trayvon Martin case. I said look, maybe the boy really did look suspicious and that neighborhood did have a lot of recent robberies. I eventually changed my mind based on evidence. Paula Deen has given us enough ammunition to call her what she is, a sixty-six year old racist who has had to water her bigoted ways down to get to where she is today. I do believe Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson have made mountains out of molehills in the past. I do understand that we do not need to bring out that race card so much that no one responds to our fire alarm. But when something is as blatant as as, "OF COURSE I USE THE N WORD" as Paula Deen said in her deposition, then it's time for that bitch to get fired and get herself some AARP!

Monday, June 24, 2013




    Without magazine covers 

    You saw my name in lights

    at first sight, my mother. 

    Closed our eyes

    Sidewalks to red carpets

    Awards and black ties.
    Biographies of lies.

    Sneaking on sets

    was as good as it would get

    From the student loan debt

    To resumes that got wet. 

    Bills never paid, 

    on time,

    In fake Gucci shades

    Holding up the drive thru 

    looking for a dime. 

    It was all good

    In that Toyota Corolla. 

    Dreams of Hollywood

    Jealous of Lola 

    Tracy the Liberian Diva

    Our imaginations, 
    Ran wild
    Nobody said our names
    No Destiny's Child. 
    Toyota made our Maybach 
    P. Diddy in the backseat
    Sippin' on Ciroc.

    You sang,
    better than Aretha
    I remember our routine
    We rocked it 
    better than Aaliyah.
    Ms. Shug, Ms. V.I.P.. Krystal B.

    Charming into V.I.P. of every club...
    Up until sunrise 
    Searching for that dub. 
    You were...
    Quite special to me
    Courtrooms & cemetaries,
    You helped me carry 
    I wanted to bury.

    In front of the bar
    We were still stars
    Just in an overheated car.
    Not up to par
    but we laughed through it all
    While tossing nickles in the jar.

    Wherever auditions take us
    The best of us 
    Was Church's Chicken 
    and a shuttle bus.
    First year at Clark Atlanta, 
    Couldn't wait for break
    Good food and Santa.
    But I didn't make it home,
    Tried to end my life
    While mama screamed on the phone.

    She was my ammunition
    To fight the doubt
    I had in my mission.
    And you, 
    Miss go-getter,
    You'll always be my co-star
    My four page letter.

    Before I take this stage
    I reflect on those
    Who burned sage 
    to my rage.
    Camcorder videos
    Dinners of Cheerios
    You kept me laughing
    Even through the blows.

    You were my real days
    My summer cookouts,
    My let me count the ways.
    My they'd go
    and you'd stay.

    can't stand the east coast
    Thank you 
    when I make that toast

    I miss it all
    Getting crunk 
    From windows to walls


    Hospital band and your hand
    Marching bands 
    Delaware sand
    Stuffed animals 
    Serving as the fans.

    It all did us good.
    Welcome to Hollywood
    Ms. Shug 
    You and I 
    Hailing 745's in the hood
    You and I
    Gone Hollywood. 

    I dreamed big, EARLY

Wednesday, June 19, 2013


Vagina seems to make the world go round. Throughout history, man has shed blood, sweat and tears to make sure that the woman is secure and properly spoiled. Mans main motivation for achieving great success has always been that if he makes it big, he can entice more women, even hotter women. Historically, a woman's place in society depended on the man she married. Man had to appear successful to land the holy vagina. You see, a woman would go for a knight in shining armor before she would dare bat her eyes at a man who cleaned horse shit off of the palace driveway.

Now let's be clear, vagina doesn't make my individual world even go halfway round...I have never inserted my penis into a vagina. I have never smelled the scent of a vagina. I have never desired to swirl my manly tongue inside of a vagina. Why? Because I am gay.
Clearly, I would not understand why a pussy would be placed on a pedestal, why it drives men wild to the point of spending their rent money on it or even why the vagina is desired in the first place.
Personally, I have a lot of female friends who complain about their periods and the visual of that does not get my dick hard.
I digress.

It seems that men would do anything to simply be in close proximity to a vagina. Take Craigslist for example, I go on there to peruse the personals ads and get my laughs. There are countless men for women ads practically GROVELING at the prospective vagina. These desperate sperm warriors offer trips to Vegas, filet mignon, a Beyonce concert and all bills paid just to have her sit in their face and bat her manipulative female lashes.
Now don't get me wrong, I love women, I don't hate them, but it seems to me that if you have a vagina, you get whatever you want from a heterosexual man. (Especially if you pop out babies with a rich one and go see Judge Disparity about child support)
All that I have is a gay asshole and no one has offered filet mignon for it. Well one time I did get a McDonalds apple pie for it...but I was hungry and he was hung... and well, I was horny but broke in college and tired of Ramen so I was hungry and he was horny and ballin' with two dollars...ok I digress again!
A nice man bought me an apple pie from McDonalds

For the most part I find straight men to be pathetic but kind of feel sorry for them. You see, vagina is not as easy to come by as let's say, gay male ass. Women spend most of their social lives making sure that they are not seen as hoes. They build walls of Jericho around their vagina's which are in fact wetter than the Amazon for some dick, but they can't appear too ready and willing. There must be formalities of dinners, movies, hard-to-get attitudes, evaluations of the mans assets and holier than thou filibusters after she met him in the club while dropping it low on his dick in the first place! But gay dudes...aint nobody got time for hard-to- get, they don't find that shit cute nor necessary to deal with. Gay men are MEN first of all and we all know men are carnal creatures ruled by testosterone. If you think straight men think with their dicks, can you imagine gay men who don't have the societal norms of DINNER AND A MOVIE to contend with?

Let me explain before you disagree. Us gays grew up not being viewed as apart of normal society. We weren't in Casablanca with our hair blowing in the planes wind. We sat up watching Lady and the Tramp wondering when we could get our fucking spaghetti! But chile, we knew pasta was only given to pussy! We didn't grow up shopping for a tuxedo so our parents could take a photo of us with John the TOP before the prom. We had to suck Johns dick in the bathroom while our closet lesbian date waited for us on the dance floor. We usually had to sneak around for our men and we dared not hit on any guys at school. What if they aren't gay? Aint nobody got time for gay bashing!!! So we generally met other guys online, or sent Tommy a subliminally sexual instant message after band practice or paraded our gay asses around a seedy cruising spot at dusk. (Yes I cruised as a teenager, I was a SLUT IN TRAINING!) And when you meet a guy in those circumstances, it's not to discuss the inspiring works of James Baldwin, it's to be face down and ass up!

Being that my world has mainly consisted of me being face down and ass up, I have often wondered what it would be like to be my female friends. You know, sitting at an expensive restaurant, draining him of his entire paycheck. It seems like a woman never has to go hungry. She can post an ad up on Craigslist entitled, "NIGGA I'M HUNGRY, TAKE A BITCH TO RED LOBSTER!" and scores of men will reply, American Express in hand! If my gay ass posted an ad, "NIGGA I'M HUNGRY, TAKE A BOY TO RED LOBSTER!" Then all I will get is speeches about how I need to take my damn self out. After all, to them, I am a grown ass man so I should be the hunter and gatherer, able to feed myself with my own riches. And of course they would refuse to take me out, and offer I come over their place instead for government cheese, stale crackers and a Syphillis infected dick!

The rule is, the straight man has to WORK for the vagina, he has to pay his dues. That is for a woman with self respect. Hoes will lay down for free but men don't generally speak well of them. Gay men do not have to work for gay ass and they generally can have sex whenever they want just like a woman. But a woman, will not only get dick, she will get food and maybe even a shopping spree at RAINBOW! Aint that some unequal shit!
Isn't dinner, movies & shopping for the benefit of eventual sex kinda like prostitution?

What makes these vagina's so special? Why is it that a woman can get paid upwards of $5,000 for her eggs but a man only gets fifty dollars and a cup for his skeet, no matter if he shoots it from the windows to the walls!? Why is it that a woman can get hired as a receptionist before a man can? Why the desire for the general public to see a woman's face when they first walk into a company? Why can't my gay ass sit in that swivel chair and confirm appointments?! OK I admit, I have been rejected from a couple of receptionist jobs over women with tits. AND IF YOU SAW THOSE BALLOON TITS YOU WOULDN'T SAY THAT I AM SELF ENTITLED AND SEXIST! So stop coming for me and keep reading responsibly. I can read your mind.

I feel like the feminist movement was wonderful and women can do anything a man can do...but for the most part, women are still able to use their feminine wiles to get what they want. Yes women are not paid equally as men and that has to change. Yes women are more independent than they've ever been before. There are more female breadwinners in households than ever before. What I am saying to you is that socially, women have an ENORMOUS power in their pussy that no gay man can ever conjure from his rectum. There are far more women in the world than there are men, but for some reason, men have been able to acquire most of the powerful positions in the world; consequentially, women have been disenfranchised and exploited by them. However, the power of the pussy has been so great, that when push comes to shove, a woman can manipulate and dominate a man into giving them everything they want. It is so powerful that even lesbians have been known to use this power over men. (And Hilary Clinton aint stopping until she's the President) Men get rock hard over a challenge so it's no surprise they tend to be helpless around sexy lipstick lesbians.

Why do I digress so often? Must be the chain weed smoking I did in college.

Have I made a point? Probably not. This is a blog, not a dissertation or article in a scientific journal. What I am here to do, is to bitch and moan about how women can get taken out to eat, taken on trips, receive rent payments for their eggs and use their cha-bang-bangs to get to high places. But I can't even get an older gay man to make a dollar out of my 15 cents. 

I am a not a woman, I do not know what it is like to walk in their stilettos, or their Timberland boots or their Prada loafers. I am merely speaking as a gay man with lots of female friends who have landed card swiping athletes and wheelchair sugar daddies without teeth. It's made me envious, that I can be broke from student loan payments, but I unfortunately do not have the right body part to dare be TAKEN out to eat. Why can't a man be a damsel in distress? Why can't I shake my gay tail feather in a Frank Ocean video? I want the right to be SEXUALLY EXPLOITED AND PAID! Why can't I post a Craigslist ad entitled "BENJAMINS FOR BOOTY" and get paid in an Escalade?! Why is it that I can't strut my gay ass into a bar and have a room full of niggas waiting to buy me a drink?! Why? Because I have a penis. AND THAT SHIT JUST AINT RIGHT!

                                   EQUALITY MOVEMENT! FIGHT FOR YOUR RIGHTS!

Monday, June 10, 2013

The $655 Dollar Band-Aid

I had a great sleep last night. I was euphoric in a vivid dream. I ran across a green valley surrounded by butterflies; but I fell and scraped my knee. It hurt but a sexy man in a white coat arrived. He kissed it, rubbed alcohol on it and then dressed it with a Band-Aid. He looked into my eyes and said, "Don't worry, it's covered." Then I sarcastically responded, "I can see that it's covered, you put a band-aid on it!" He chuckled, "No silly, it's paid for. Don't worry, it only costed me 10 dollars for a box of band-aids and five dollars for this alcohol. We will take care of it. Use your hard earned money to buy a hot meal and soft toilet paper to wipe your rather impressive ass with." I smiled at him and he disappeared into the blades of grass. The pollen in the air didn't make me sneeze and I thought that was strange. But then I heard the loud beeping of the alarm clock and cars honking. Fuck, it was a dream.

The waking world doesn't seem to make as much sense as that dream. I awoke a college graduate, a published freelance writer and a blogger who is uninsured. 

What was left of my Toyota
A year ago I had a car accident and was not injured. The manipulative paramedics claimed that I could have had a concussion and urged me to go to the hospital. I refused at first, but they kept stroking my dick about going to the hospital. (not literally obviously)

All I had was a scraped knee. Uninsured. Yes, I know, STUPID COSTLY MISTAKE. The lethargic doctor came in and said I needed a band-aid. 

Today I received a notice from collections for $655.00.



As kids, we want to hurry up and grow chest hair or tits, but we don't realize that being an adult sucks for the most part. There's no one to kiss your wounds and there's no one to pay for those wounds. I miss the good ole days of my moms Blue Cross Blue Shield from the school system. She was a dedicated teacher and preacher. I took advantage of the days when getting sick meant that somebody would take care of me. The hospital will take care of you, but you may shoot yourself after you see the bill. Those of us who are uninsured and under-insured, are actually the majority of America, you know, the people Romney doesn't deem "American."

Movie Mogul Tyler Perry and I at an event
I've been a personal assistant, a caretaker, a hotel front desk agent, a houseman at a hotel, a human resources receptionist, a ticket booth agent at a theater, a staff writer for a newspaper, a bust boy, a waiter, a glorified whore, an intern at NBC 4 News Station, a television personality and a published writer; so I don't consider myself lazy. Times are hard these days for me, the artist. My new job is not offering health insurance YET, but it is perfect for me as I get to PERFORM, Something I always had a passion for. 

The numbers of uninsured and under-insured have no doubt increased in 2013

People can think what they want politically but what I can't seem to understand is what I am being charged for. If I went into a Barber Shop seeking a haircut, but I was bald headed with one strand of hair on my forehead, would they charge full price to use their fingers and yank the strand out? Would they even charge at all ? It wasn't a haircut after all, right? A Band-Aid was something I could have gotten from my bathroom cabinet. Did it cost $655 dollars to keep me waiting in an ice cold room for forty-five minutes, ask me personal questions which included, "Have you had suicidal thoughts?" and then secure a five dollar band-aid on my knee? Oh yea, I must'ave been suicidal to total my car, keep me waiting and then come in and insult me why don't you!....I digress... It would have been nice to not be taken advantage of; warned of concussions when my head didn't even strike anything. It would have been nice for the flashing lights to say, "You know what, there's nothing wrong with you, no need in going to the hospital."

The cost of Band-Aids has skyrocketed!
Instead they whispered ominous nothings in my ear. They claimed I looked dizzy and that I could have a fracture. But no one offered to examine any of that at the hospital, nor did  they perform any type of X-Ray... No, all they did was get a band-aid and ask me how many times I've thought of suicide while a COP stood there waiting to give me a citation and a fuck you. 

This is not about me and definitely not about my expensive band-aid, it's about our fucked up system in general. Yes someone has to pay for the medical care rendered; those paramedics, doctors, nurses and the rest of the medical professionals work very hard. But it seems as though this business is more about taking advantage of wallets in desperate situations. 

I live in a country where credit cards are sent to people's homes faster than the gas and electric company during a power outage. 
Just me hanging out with friends on the cotton field

We are suffering in debt slavery and we are ALL enslaved. Black, White, Brown, Purple, no matter your color, all they care about is keeping you owing somebody some damn money.

Same debt, different Presidents
Oh it's never YOUR money. Was it your money when you got money back from your taxes and the IRS took it back? They can garnish your wages, your employer can lower your wages, your local gas station can raise their prices and the apples at the grocery store must have a golden core these days. 

Sure it's my fault for going to the hospital for a scraped knee and it's my fault for rear ending the mini van in the first place. Yes it's my fault for not having a good paying job with full benefits because after all, these type of jobs are out there for the picking like summer dandelions! 

I don't have all of the answers, if I did, I'd be God. I just know that this system is fucked up. This system doesn't appear to give a damn about us like the late Michael Jackson tried to tell us decades ago.

I just know a band-aid is a band-aid and nickle and dime-ing people is not going to help the economy. I am willing to go to CVS, buy a few boxes of BAND-AIDS and alcohol bottles to donate to the hospital. I am willing to mop their floors and suck a few hung doctor dicks; but I am not willing to pay $655.00! Yes I was stupid, but that's a high price to pay. 

My goal this year and hopefully not through next year is to get some good health insurance. Lord knows I am as clumsy as they come, Steve Urkel has nothing on me. I will trip on an ant. I will get tangled in my bed sheets while trying to go to the bathroom at night. I fall INTO the shower every morning. 

Yes, I of all people need to have health insurance. 

I could also complain about these student loans that I am somehow managing to keep up with. I could bitch and moan about the lack of decent jobs in my field after graduating university. I could even claim that I shouldn't have to pay the loans back because I matriculated into an unfair and suppressed workforce. 

Tuition costs rise, student loan debt rises, economy suffers

But when I took the loan, I understood what it was; A LOAN. But what I will say is that these loans should be partially forgiven in many unfortunate circumstances. People shouldn't have to be forty-five years old paying back undergrad loans. Especially when they are working at Home Depot piling slabs of wood on shelves when they have a degree in Journalism.
And we thought he'd be superhuman like Moses
How is it helping the economy to have hard working Americans paying back corrupt loans which pile on so much interest they end up looking like America's debt to China? Shouldn't these American's have more opportunity to put their income into the, I don't know, economy? They could use that money to shop and eat at restaurants. Instead they have to pay back loans for a dream that never came to fruition. They have to wonder what the entire God forsaken point was in going to college, getting gang banged by frat boys, catching crabs, eating Ramen noodles, only to be at Home Depot selling flowers which you are allergic to. Now 
you're ringing up flowers, sneezing and becoming a zombie. 

In God we trust? Bitch please. God can't co-sign this bullshit. That federal reserve foolery has got to be tried in a higher court than what we have in this country. 

That's all for now. Look, all I can advise is this: If you are uninsured and not badly injured, STAY YOUR ASS OUT OF THE AMBULANCE AND HOSPITAL! RUN AWAY FROM THE FLASHING LIGHTS! 

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Single and Grown

We had dinner

We kissed in the car

You said I was special

But I know who you are.

I've been naive 

Thinking I was the star...

I'm just another in the galaxy,

Another drink at the bar. 

I try to forget how

I thought it'd go far...

Watching your body

sweat against that electric guitar.

Your voice tells stories

that your hands can't write,

Promising sunshine


in the dead of the night.

When we met I knew

There'd be Hell to pay

You said I love you

But that's all you can say...

There you go

Damming my emotional flow;

Blank stares in your underwear,

You make me feel like a hoe. 

The boys 

The little boys...

They don't come for love

They've come to play ball...


Peter and Paul,

Screaming contradictions

With that southern drawl. 

How silly of my mind

To think he pondered future

instead of my tight behind?

The boys can make me cry

But I'm done with temper tantrums

Through with a dirty open fly.

I'm not chasing 

another lackluster guy

Drinking his champagne 

Through a bottle of SKYY.

Done with the post midnight


No more loving the crew.

You ask

Why are you single? 

I say it's complicated

I've lacked self respect

and my trust has faded.

For now I'm dancing on my own

No need for a realtor 

I've always been home.

Don't need to be completed

My soil has already been seeded

And now I see more than ever

you were NOT what I needed. 

So please be seated


I will be exceptional...

I will be emotional...

I will be successful

On my own

On my own. 

You can keep your superficial 

You're nothing but a con

A fraudulent infomercial. 

I'm not answering my phone

I'm on my own...

On my own. 

Thanks to you I am grown,

All on my own. 

Single never felt so liberated

Instead of your displeasure 

I should'ave masturbated.

I feel good 

In and out of my clothes

Yes I think of another body 

But I'm more interested in souls. 

Dating can make you feel 

Like you're swinging on poles

Conversations go left...

This nigga doesn't have goals.

I guess I'm too selfish

to help him become a man.

Too individual 

To join his marching band.

They can blow on those trumpets

Bang his tambourines...

But their 15 minutes will be over

When I get up and sing. 

Pain won't keep me here

I remember driving

and letting him steer. 

He used to call me a fag

While handing me a cum rag.

Self hating, foolish man...

He didn't want a partner

He just wanted a fan. 

I've grown to idolize myself

And it doesn't allow me

To keep his pictures on my shelf.

Yes I'm single

Smelling my own cologne

And I'm done with fruity pebbles

No more rolling stones.

On my own.

My own.

It's only my love..

That I own. 

Single and grown.