What would you like to hear in response my unmelanated colonizing Kween?
Why would you fix your tongue to think I’d call you sis back?
Please tell me how we are related
Did your ancestors rape mine on a plantation?
Is this the relation that makes you fix your tongue to call me
Like we got the same momma without me knowing somehow
Well I text my momma and she said you a liar
That she ain’t raise no goofies so once again
What relation do we have for you to call me sis?
Is there a secret group I don’t know about that white women and gay white men have all joined into where they call people their gender assignment?
Because one that’s weird and if that’s not the case why would you fix your tongue to call me sis?
What you trynna tell me?
You down enough for cornrows and box braids?
That you feel comfortable enough to ask me to teach you how to twerk??
That you love black guys so it’s totally fine if you call me
You know my sista and I have a tradition
Where if one of us irks the other we throw hands for 15 seconds…
So what’s good sis?
So what’s good Miley?
Sara, Claire, and Connor?
Note: if you don’t sound right saying “throw hands” once again how in the hell can you fix your tongue to call me
Is this you inviting yourself to the cookout?
Because my aunties ain’t nice and they don’t want to meet you
Is this you declaring yourself queen at low fat bean casserole and baked Mac & cheese casserole?
Like we ain’t related because I can’t even comprehend why everything is a casserole with y’all.
Story time ... dim the lights
Once upon a time a yt body declared me sis
Placed a plate of uncooked noodles, butter, and shredded cheese in front of me
Declared it Mac and cheese
My ancestors ain’t slept since
We all terrified that she may have actually put her foot in it
Turn the lights back on
When blk women coin one another sis we recognizing a similar struggle
A generational struggle
Do you not understand that in this struggle you fit in as oppressor despite your “Black Lives Matter” bio on Twitter on Instagram on Facebook
Because once again, you’ll faint if we don’t know how down you are
Don’t call me sis
We ain’t of no relation
We ain’t of the same struggle
So don’t call me sis
Don’t call me sis
Don't call me sis
& don't touch my hair
No you ain’t invited to the cookout
No those “baby hairs” ain’t cute on you
No that lip plumper ain’t working
My sis’ bestow magick
Black girl magic and I am so sorry, baby girl
But you ain’t got it
So how in the hell could you fix yo tongue to call me