Gal you strut around in your fancy clothes, your makeup, high heels and skin-tight clothes. Gal stop trying to be a woman when you’re only a gal at 8 years old.
Gal your strutting your stuff, showing off those budding breasts and swinging your hips. Trying to make those boys notice you and tell you your pretty. Gal stop short-changing yourself, losing your innocence to make the boys notice you. Gal stop trying to be a woman when you’re only a gal at 14 years old.
Gal your strutting your stuff, drinking with those men. Being the cool gal, the life of the party, being the hottest chick on the block, every man has your number on speed dial. Gal stop trying to be a woman when you’re only a gal at 18 years old.
Gal you’re strutting your stuff. Living in an expensive apartment, driving a top of the range car and eating at five-star restaurants. You boast about your man whose am MP, who does everything for you but do you know he’s just using you for sex. There are rumors he has HIV and you never use a condom. Gal stop trying to be a wife when you’re only a mistress.
Gal you’re strutting your stuff, wearing your short skirts and tight blouses that show off your breasts. You’re getting it on, on the dance floor, shaking it, trying to attract the attention of the guys so that you can get a one night stand. Woman stops trying to be a gal when you’re a woman at 45 years old.
Gal strut your stuff, be who you need to be. But gal respect yourself, love yourself and don’t try to be someone that God didn’t mean you to be. Don’t be a woman when your only a gal and don’t let yourself be dirt when your more precious than diamonds. Gal be what God meant you to be. A Diva. A Queen. A bride of the son.
Raylitpoems 09
