C-real - Obaa Boni lyrics

I never said I was innocent You're looking at me like I'm less of a woman now Now that somehow my skeletons lost allegiance and fled their air tights closets Now that they spill my humanness like running faucets and you thought you could wash your hands clean with my filth. You're looking at me like your favourite flower's begun to wilt Like the perfectly aligned portrait of me on your wall threatens to tilt The one where my docility strangles the breath out of my truth and left fingerprints on its throat You're mad I'm no longer the longing your macho has built. You're looking at me like I should be entitled to your opinion Like my mouth is a stale recovery unit for frail beliefs eaten out by the cancer of your ego Did you not get the memo that I'm nobody's minion? I have learnt how to ba** my voice in the choir of the mute Untamedmy mane, there's a jungle in my name, let's hear you call this roar cute I have learnt to stop pretending like I don't bleed Stopped shaming myself for staining clothes and sheets Stopped ripping the price tag off the very thing that gives worth to your seed I have learnt to own my body and you're still looking at me like I owe you an 'I'm sorry' Maybe I do For all the generations that fueled your expectations, but Way too many women wake up carrying apologies in their bearings Crushed under the burden of the obedience society be yearning We're all mad as f** about something but you're more mad that I be swearing It may be late for many but my best friend just had a baby girl so for her the revolution's come early Early could've come sooner for the girls who learnt to get by with a sleeve full of tricks Judged by a society that equates her to her p**y but separates a man from his dick They're quick to call her a who*e or a b**h Often using the Bible to berate like we all don't worship the same God Toning the guilty in their skins, sugar coating their sins, like we all won't be flogged by the very same rod They call out bad women like being a woman is something we get to be good at Undetectably scoring us points to inevitably define us Marriage...score. Motherhood...score But get dedicated to anything non-domestic, well, that's a minus Preach submission and get hailed but throw in some independence to the equation and suddenly you're a virus Well, I hope this poem infects every cell and multiplies itself like a stone cold survivor I see you still looking to me My perfumed confidence coming off as an overwhelming stench You're hoping I revert into your image of good girl convenient But look to the beginning I've never been that kind of innocent.