When I think of a black woman, what do I see?
I see spice, I see funk, I see personality
How many women do you know can blow a whole crowd?
From standing and letting her powerful voice sings its way out
We have such style, we have such influence on people we surround and see
The people that are opposite they stare and wish to be
That smooth dark skin that glissens and glows when they stand in the moonlight
That strong and powerful demanding voice when they feel something's not right
If I had a choice of when I came back one thing would a fact
I wouldn't be white, I wouldn't be Latin, my color would surely be black
Cause when I walk out and the sun hits me and gives my skin a simmer
I feel proud without a doubt to be a black sistah
So if you ever come and ask what's real for what I stand?
Ill stand up tall and look you in the eye and you'll see a black woman