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My hair is a weapon during the time when my voice wasn't heard My past stands alone so eager to conquer the enemy I am not ashamed of my thickness cause Courage, Strength, and Wisdom is what it carries My roots would rise up with pride, dignity, and honor It will project at that blue-eyed devil with burning eyes My locs will then break out in sweat ready to take on this cowardly bastard When your bickering starts I knott up and grow thick as cotton that lies peaceful in the 98 sun As the blazing would radiate down on my weapon it would fight back and become coarse, knotted, and loc My My how napeness will take charge with toughness, roughness, and harshness But kinkness always found a way to come undone You will no longer reprimand me You will no longer deplore me You will explore me I will stand up and load my weapon with powerful ammunition You will then represent me from my struggle of my past You will then retreat me to the highest horizon My roots will then become embedded into your soul As you crumble into the ground I will then celebrate on Sunday My best dress and stocking will move with joyfulness My weapon will then be greased and oiled as it shines I will then press out the sorrow, hostility, pain, and anguish that you have cause Oh how I see you surrender to me My sista's and brotha's will be called upon about the good news So you want to know who am I I am a weapon that is represented from the pain of my past to the crown of my head, to the soles of my feet. Shine on Zay
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