| Stare and stare |
| I look across the aisle at the process he wears |
| while people sitting back digg-ing my nappy hair. |
| A sister standing, and no one even cares |
| we’re all just riding with our nose in the air. |
| Another stop on the bus, some people boarding, |
| different color then us, they hate to mingle, |
| but no one makes a fuss, the thing about it |
| there’s no one here we can trust. |
| Of all the sunday times of preaching |
| where all the folks that the scripts been reachin. |
| They’re hard to find, like it’s a crime to do of good and brotherhood |
| seems no one will and the only thrill is doing bad |
| and that’s kind of sad. |
| So all I’m trying to say, is what a way, |
| what a way to waste the day. |
| The black and the old faye working the same jobs for the pay |
| but it seems here lately we have nothing to say. |
| Stare and stare |
| I look across the aisle at the process he wears |
| while people sitting back digging my nappy hair. |
| A sister standing, and no one even cares |
| Stare and stare folks! |
| keep it up! |