For Women

[Talib Kweli] (Spoken)<br>Yea, so we got this tune called "For Women" right<br>Originally, it was by Nina Simone<br>She said it was inspired by, you know<br>Down south. In the south, they used to call her Mother Antie<br>She said No Mrs.<br>Just Antie<br>She said if anybody ever called her Antie <br>she`d burn the whole goddamn place down<br>I`m over past that<br>Coming into the new millenium, we can`t forget our elders<br><br>[Talib Kweli]<br>I got off the 2 train in Brooklyn on my way to a session<br>Said let me help this woman up the stairs before I get to steppin`<br>We got in a conversation she said she a 107<br>Just her presence was a blessing and her essence was a lesson<br>She had her head wrapped<br>And long dreads that peeked out the back<br>Like antenna to help her get a sense of where she was at, imagine that<br>Livin` a century, the strenght of her memories<br>Felt like an angel had been sent to me<br>She lived from nigger to colored to negro to black<br>To afro then african-american and right back to nigger<br>You figure she`d be bitter in the twilight<br>But she alright, cuz she done sseen the circle of life yo<br>Her skin was black like it was packed with melanin<br>Back in the days of slaves she packin` like Harriet Tubman<br>Her arms are long and she moves like song<br>Feet with corns, hand with callouses<br>But her heart is warm and her hair is wooly<br>And it attract a lot of energy even negative<br>She gotta dead that the head wrap is her remedy<br>Her back is strong and she far from a vagabond<br>This is the back of the masters` whip used to crack upon<br>Strong enough to take all the pain, that`s been<br>Inflicted again and again and again and again and flipped<br>It to the love for her children nothing else matters<br>What do they call her? They call her aunt Sara.<br><br>Woman singing in the background<br><br>[Talib Kweli] (+ Background Vocals)<br>I know a girl with a name as beautiful as the rain<br>Her face is the same but she suffers an unusual pain<br>Seems she only deals with losers who be usin` them games<br>Chasin` the real brothers away like she confused in the brain<br>She tried to get it where she fit in <br>on that American Dream mission paid tuition<br>For the receipt to find out her history was missing and started flippin<br>Seeing the world through very different eyes<br>People askin` her what she`ll do when it comes time to chose sides<br>Yo, her skin is yellow, it`s like her face is blond word is bond<br>And her hair is long and straight just like sleeping beauty<br>See, she truly feels like she belong in 2 worlds<br>And that she can`t relate to other girls<br>Her father was rich and white still livin` with his wife<br>But he forced himself on her mother late one night<br>They call it rape that`s right and now she take flight<br>Through life with hate and spite inside her mind<br>That keep her up to the break of light a lot of times<br>(I gotta find myself) (3X)<br>She had to remind herself<br>They called her Safronia the unwanted seed<br>Blood still blue in her vein and still red when she bleeds<br>(Don`t, don`t, don`t hurt me again) (8X)<br><br>[Talib Kweli] (+ Background Vocals)<br>Teenage lovers sit on the stoops up in Harlem<br>Holdin` hands under the Apollo marquis dreamin of stardom<br>Since they was born the streets is watchin` and schemin`<br>And now it got them generations facin` deseases<br>That don`t kill you they just got problems<br>and complications that get you first<br>Yo, it`s getting worse, when children hide the fact that they pregnant<br>Cuz they scared of giving birth<br>How will I feed this baby?<br>How will I survive, how will this baby shine?<br>Daddy dead from crack in `85, mommy dead from AIDS in `89<br>At 14 the baby hit the same streets they became her master<br>The children of the enslaved, they grow a little faster<br>They bodies become adult<br>While they keepin` the thoughts of a child her arrival<br>Into womanhood was heemed up by her survival<br>Now she 25, barely grown out her own<br>Doin` whatever it takes strippin`, workin` out on the block<br>Up on the phone, talkin` about <br>(my skin is tan like the front of your hand)<br>(And my hair...)<br>(Well my hair`s alright whatever way I want to fix it, <br>it`s alright it`s fine)<br>(But my hips, these sweet hips of mine invite you daddy)<br>(And when I fix my lips my mouth is like wine)<br>(Take a sip don`t be shy, tonight I wanna be your lady)<br>(I ain`t too good for your Mercedes, but first you got to pay me)<br>(You better quit with all the question, sugar who`s little girl am I)<br>(Why I`m yours if you got enough money to buy)<br>(You better stop with the compliments we running out of time,)<br>(You wanna talk whatever we could do that it`s your dime)<br>(From Harlem`s from where I came, don`t worry about my name,)<br>(Up on one-two-five they call me sweet thang)<br><br>Scratches + Woman singing in the background<br><br>[Talib Kweli] (+ Background Vocals)<br>A daughter come up in Georgia, ripe and ready to plant seeds,<br>Left the plantation when she saw a sign even thought she can`t read<br>It came from God and when life get hard she always speak to him,<br>She`d rather kill her babies than let the master get to `em,<br>She on the run up north to get across that Mason-Dixon<br>In church she learned how to be patient and keep wishin`,<br>The promise of eternal life after death for those that God bless<br>She swears the next baby she`ll have will breathe a free breath <br>and get milk from a free breast,<br>And love beeing alive, <br>otherwise they`ll have to give up being themselves to survive,<br>Being maids, cleaning ladies, maybe teachers or college graduates, nurses, housewives, prostitutes, and drug addicts<br>Some will grow to be old women, some will die before they born,<br>They`ll be mothers, and lovers who inspire and make songs,<br>(But me, my skin is brown and my manner is tough,)<br>(Like the love I give my babies when the rainbow`s enuff,)<br>(I`ll kill the first muthafucka that mess with me, I never bluff)<br>(I ain`t got time to lie, my life has been much too rough,)<br>(Still running with barefeet, I ain`t got nothin` but my soul,)<br>(Freedom is the ultimate goal, <br>life and death is small on the whole, in many ways)<br>(I`m awfully bitter these days <br>`cuz the only parents God gave me, they were slaves,)<br>(And it crippled me, I got the destiny of a casualty,)<br>(But I live through my babies and I change my reality)<br>(Maybe one day I`ll ride back to Georgia on a train,)<br>(Folks `round there call me Peaches, I guess that`s my name.)