Girls Like Us: The Muses that Inspire the Music


Girls like us.  The muses that inspire the music.  Girls that feel as though they've been used all up.  Girls that do the using.  The Alexis Phife before you got on and left her ass for a white-Latina-Asian-ambiguous girl.  Girls who knew who they were long before you graced their presence.  Whose purpose is to bring out the best in others, help them maximize their full potential.  Aid you in finding yourself the way they know themselves.


Girls like us. That knew and consumed designer brands long before you came about trading Chanel for sorries.  Like Shateria, his favorite shorty out of Baltimore.  She believed in shoes & cars & wood floors & couture because this is the life she inherited from her mother, who breathed this air in another lifetime.  Taught by her mother before locking down your grandfather.  


Girls like us.  The cool girls.  She casually allure.  The Christy's in every cities and Tiffany Lanes.  Enigmatic real down to Mars girls.  So down that she accepts your weaknesses as a challenge, intentionally putting herself in the line of fire.  Remember?  The way she said your name made you feel like you were that nigga, and your ass was unemployed for how long?  Girls that drain themselves to help fill you up when you're on E, without wince nor complaint.  The ones who locate your best art.  That could use more appreciation and reciprocation in the moment.  Before you know it, that slick you-are-what-you-eat dark humor is aimed at you, and you stop treating her like your sinsation.  The 'passionate from miles away' girl remains cute in theory with a nice beat behind it.  Until you realize she's too passionate all the time about everything.  Including you, even when you didn't deserve.  She realized she was losing her cool and now you're wondering how she could be so heartless.  The type to wake up and not love you no more.  And now your memories of her lie in your most highly acclaimed work of art: Hav Plenty, MBDTF, Songs About Jane.  The aftermath of your love's homicide.  Your profession of love surrounding the attempted homicide.  Most Bomb P*ssy wouldn't let you kill her nor lie idle.

Girls like us, out here roaming without Caesar.  Only to be swept up and m(used) again.

And lovers like you, a physical manifestation of all our influence.

Toi Bly1 Comment