PSA

Dear Bitches,

I'm writing you to tell you why we broke up. Why I cheated on you, don't respect you and why I finally woke up. Ms.Bitches, Ms.Bitches, you've hurt me so. Galavanting around the city streets; presenting yourself like a ho. Why did I wander, you ask?Why the hell wouldn't I? I've heard your tales of heartbreak with this man and that guy. Ms.Bitches, Ms. Bitches I never knew your first name. Disrespecting yourself was your only claim to fame. I remember the time when you called me out. "Don't call me no bitch!" moving your neck all about. I guess that's why us guys call y'all birds. But really, is the public eye the place to shout? Let a man be a man. Can't you stall that shit out? If you thought Chris Brown flipped, you ain't seen nothin' yet! Ok. OK...maybe that last line I might regret. But get what I'm saying? You have to chill. Never mind all that hood shit; all that "I gotta keep it real!". In the public eye, you're disgracing your race. I mean really, cut the middle man and put on blackface. Ms. Bitches, Ms. Bitches giving up good men for drug dealers. Then you wonder why they shake their heads while calling us niggers. I had high hopes. I thought we'd last forever. I can honestly say, Ms. Bitches, you're just too clever. You switched ya style up. Made it hard to be caught. I saw you cheating one time- or at least so I thought. So this is my good-bye; sayonara and my farewell. Only real women I'll deal with; they have less stories to tell.

Sincerely,
One fed-up brotha