The commandments of I, Saffiyah Khan Thou shall not listen to Prince Buster Or any other man offering kindly advice In matters of my own conduct You may call me a feminazi or a femoid And then see if I give a stinking shit
Pseudointellectuals on the internet They tell me I'm unhappy because I'm not feminine Failing to consider that I may be unhappy Because it's 3 AM and I'm in the depths of YouTube Watching them, whining
Thou may catcall me on the street But thou should take note that I'll catcall you right back To tell you that you look pretty sexy too in your joggers Or your suit, or your new-found look of confusion
Girls should not turn on each other Or use man-made ideals like paths Don't you realize that you're only making a fool of yourself When you ask, "Why don't you wear makeup?" Is that what it takes to impress a bloke Whose brain is made up of promises of curvy size zeros And anti-gravity tits?
Thou shall not tell a girl she deserved it Because her skirt was too short She walked home, streets lights illuminating her as a target But she started it, because she looked at him And he finished it 'cause he wanted to And they'll bring out her skirt as "exhibit A" before the judge
And she should have the right to say "Thou shall not tell me what to wear Nor how to wear it"
I shall not be the icing on your cake And I shall not be the candy on your arm But I shall be seen And I will be heard The commandments of I, Saffiyah Khan
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