The kind of white man I want. . .
The white guy I want doesn’t drive a damn Cadillac (Escalade, Brougham, Fleetwood, whatever the hell).
The white guy I want doesn’t listen to rap music, especially: “screw”, 2 Live Crew or “gangsta” rap.
The white guy I want doesn’t know who the hell the following people are: Frankie Beverley. Teddy Pendergrass. Mike Jones.
The white guy I want hasn’t have heard of the following songs: “Candy Likker”, “Juicy Fruit”, or “Bustin’ Loose”.
The white guy I want doesn’t watch any of the following TV sitcoms currently in syndication: “Sanford and Son”, “Good Times”, or “That’s my mama”
The white guy I want doesn’t wear clothes from the following designers: Roca-Wear and Phat Farm. He doesn’t, for the love of all that is sacred and holy, even think about wearing any FUBU!
The white guy I want doesn’t know any hip hop or urban slang. He WILL NEVER say, “fo shizzle, my nizzle”.
The white guy I want doesn’t know how to dance.
The white guy I want doesn’t drink 40-ounces.
The white guy I want doesn’t have spinning rims on his tires.
The white guy I want doesn’t have a “pimp walk” in which his left leg lazily, almost reluctantly, follows his right leg as he walks.
The white guy I want doesn’t know that we can’t shag in the shower because my hair will get kinky/nappy/frizzy.
The white guy I want doesn’t know what “jumping the broom” means. He doesn’t know that “Ribbon in the sky” by Stevie Wonder is the all-time classic staple for EVERY African-American wedding. He doesn’t know what the hell is going on when, at the African-American wedding reception, all of the guests get up to do the damn “Harlem Shuffle”.
The white guy I want doesn’t know what a Gospel stage play is.
The white guy I want doesn’t require me to have a large ghetto booty that I can clap.
The white guy I want doesn’t like white girls. . .because if he does then he might as well be black!
galaxyMafia. . .finds that actually, men really hold no glamour for her anymore!
The white guy I want doesn’t listen to rap music, especially: “screw”, 2 Live Crew or “gangsta” rap.
The white guy I want doesn’t know who the hell the following people are: Frankie Beverley. Teddy Pendergrass. Mike Jones.
The white guy I want hasn’t have heard of the following songs: “Candy Likker”, “Juicy Fruit”, or “Bustin’ Loose”.
The white guy I want doesn’t watch any of the following TV sitcoms currently in syndication: “Sanford and Son”, “Good Times”, or “That’s my mama”
The white guy I want doesn’t wear clothes from the following designers: Roca-Wear and Phat Farm. He doesn’t, for the love of all that is sacred and holy, even think about wearing any FUBU!
The white guy I want doesn’t know any hip hop or urban slang. He WILL NEVER say, “fo shizzle, my nizzle”.
The white guy I want doesn’t know how to dance.
The white guy I want doesn’t drink 40-ounces.
The white guy I want doesn’t have spinning rims on his tires.
The white guy I want doesn’t have a “pimp walk” in which his left leg lazily, almost reluctantly, follows his right leg as he walks.
The white guy I want doesn’t know that we can’t shag in the shower because my hair will get kinky/nappy/frizzy.
The white guy I want doesn’t know what “jumping the broom” means. He doesn’t know that “Ribbon in the sky” by Stevie Wonder is the all-time classic staple for EVERY African-American wedding. He doesn’t know what the hell is going on when, at the African-American wedding reception, all of the guests get up to do the damn “Harlem Shuffle”.
The white guy I want doesn’t know what a Gospel stage play is.
The white guy I want doesn’t require me to have a large ghetto booty that I can clap.
The white guy I want doesn’t like white girls. . .because if he does then he might as well be black!
galaxyMafia. . .finds that actually, men really hold no glamour for her anymore!
