You’re perfect just the way you are.
Such a cliche that has made it thus far.
Who would I be without all the stigmas?
A sexy, fierce chick without bodies to count.
A million dollar female not asking for handouts.
Names of a breeder b**** or rag for bodily fluids will be silenced.
A deeper meaning to a survivor embedded.
Laying down my armor, replaced by unity.
Revolution is near.
Remove all the anxiety when I take the stage.
Perhaps, I am eager for the outcome they say.
Postpartum will no longer haunt me, the demons in my head no longer taunt me.
Full of life with only angels guiding me, rather than fighting the noise from the negativities trying to down me.
Still always picking the yang.
To boot as a woman, we’re the yin, so a little bird sang.
Titles given by man would be thrown out.
In this ideal world full of bliss.
Every worry taken care of.
A village for my littles.
No more irritability that cripples.
Don’t you change a thing, beautiful celestial being.
Fix your mindset to attract these things.
So the little bird sings.
Remember, you’re perfect just the way you are.
A cliche that has made it thus far.