See that girl to the left?
Her strands like the ocean horizon
Her ends are split, her hairline thin
It will stay that way until cut
She gets her hair caucasian-straight
And then tells me of black pride
You dissembler, you hypocrite
Your hair will stay stationary in the wind that carries your words

See that girl to the right?
Her hair like glazed ceramics
Her style is long, her strands are fake
Underneath are braids of damage
She gets the hair of other races sewn to her
And then tells me of black pride
You dissembler, you hypocrite
You'll have to replace them and see what you've done to your own hair

See that girl behind you?
Her hair like a story all its own
Her curls are blunt, her hair is thick
It's the hair that nature gave her
She straightens it on occasion
And then tells me of black pride
You interpreter, you representative
This girl sees my point