P!ed P!per reporting live from the Megabus on my way to NYC to continue celebrating my birthday. Yes, this is an epic 24th birthday for the kid. the format of this post may be a little off because I'm doing this joint from my droid, so bear with me.
I'll b up front and honest with u about this topic. I am a mommas boy. And the more I think about it the more I realize that most black men are. There is a special bond between a black man and his mother. Whether this is because the strong black woman is truly the backbone of the black community or if the explanation of the black mans state from the beginning of "baby boy" is the truth is neither here nor there. there is nothing like a black mother. U might wanna say im biased and i might say fuck u. Either way, im right.
Ive come to some recent cross roads in my life, and every-time I come to one of these forks, I immediately call the one who knows me best. Edwina. This doesnt mean that i always take her suggestion and thought as gospel, but I gottta admit, the lady is rarely wrong. and its not that she is infalliable, but she knows me bc she is me, and I her. I truly say this about all black men.
It is because of this special connection that u will rarely get away with disrespecting a black mans mother. I have also seen the use of a black mother silence the raging beast that is an angered black man. For instance there was a time where the cuban stormed from our house in a rage with intent to drive to Maryland from nc. This made no sense, yet nothing we said could have stopped him until we mentioned the fact that his mother would have to pay for the gas in the end. He then stopped and trudged back home.
No matter what is going on in my life I call my mother. And even if I truly dont want to know her take on a situation bc my mind is made up already, i will sit on the phone for over an hour to hear her babble just bc she cares. I had one of these convos wednesday night, and honestly i cant tell u 5 points she made. All i know is she said "pray".
I prayed for guidance. God gave me my mother. I prayed for comfort, again i got my mother. I prayed for strength and the result was the same. She prayed for the same things and she got me. And for that, im thankful.
I prayed for this baby on the bus to shut up and stop crying. He got his diaper changed and apple sauce. From his mom. Thank God.
L'chaim
P!ed P!per
I'll b up front and honest with u about this topic. I am a mommas boy. And the more I think about it the more I realize that most black men are. There is a special bond between a black man and his mother. Whether this is because the strong black woman is truly the backbone of the black community or if the explanation of the black mans state from the beginning of "baby boy" is the truth is neither here nor there. there is nothing like a black mother. U might wanna say im biased and i might say fuck u. Either way, im right.
Ive come to some recent cross roads in my life, and every-time I come to one of these forks, I immediately call the one who knows me best. Edwina. This doesnt mean that i always take her suggestion and thought as gospel, but I gottta admit, the lady is rarely wrong. and its not that she is infalliable, but she knows me bc she is me, and I her. I truly say this about all black men.
It is because of this special connection that u will rarely get away with disrespecting a black mans mother. I have also seen the use of a black mother silence the raging beast that is an angered black man. For instance there was a time where the cuban stormed from our house in a rage with intent to drive to Maryland from nc. This made no sense, yet nothing we said could have stopped him until we mentioned the fact that his mother would have to pay for the gas in the end. He then stopped and trudged back home.
No matter what is going on in my life I call my mother. And even if I truly dont want to know her take on a situation bc my mind is made up already, i will sit on the phone for over an hour to hear her babble just bc she cares. I had one of these convos wednesday night, and honestly i cant tell u 5 points she made. All i know is she said "pray".
I prayed for guidance. God gave me my mother. I prayed for comfort, again i got my mother. I prayed for strength and the result was the same. She prayed for the same things and she got me. And for that, im thankful.
I prayed for this baby on the bus to shut up and stop crying. He got his diaper changed and apple sauce. From his mom. Thank God.
L'chaim
P!ed P!per
No comments:
Post a Comment