I simply would like to extend my sincerest thank you for one of your most recent contributions to the highly misogynistic rap scene of today’s day and age, your unfortunate hit of a song “I don’t mind” (2014). I can honestly say I am at a loss of how to express to you just how relieved and touched I am at your elegant showing of generosity and acceptance for a certain type of female career path.
It’s no secret that the life of a stripper/pole dancer is less than romanticized in our generation. However, we must make an important note that the equivalent of a stripper is not, in fact, a “ho”. While the opinions of several Randolph students showed that most of us already knew this fact, there may be the occasional poor soul who manages to draw the same conclusion as you: that all strippers/pole dancers are automatically sex-crazed floozies, whose jobs can be considered interchangeable with that of a prostitute. But, thank goodness for you and your melodic/philanthropic validation of the women who do make it their livelihood. An excerpt of your “charming” prose is included below for your reference.
Shawty, I don’t mind if you dance on a pole
That don’t make you a hoe
Shawty, I don’t mind when you work until three
If you’re leaving with me
Go make that money, money, money
Your money, money, money
‘Cause I know how it is, go and handle your biz
And get that money, money, money
Your money, money, money
You can take off your clothes
Long as you coming home, girl, I don’t mind
When you get off of work I’ll be ready to go in the ‘Rari
And when we get home we’ll have us our own private party in here
So I don’t worry at all about the things they do or say
I love you anyway
You can twerk while in a split, you racking up them tips
Your body rock and your booty poppin’, I’m proud to call you my bitch
They be lookin’, but they can’t touch you, shawty, I’m the only one to get it
So just go ahead and keep doing what you do, do it
So just to be clear: if I dance on a pole late into the night, as long as I come home and have sex with you, that doesn’t make me a ho? Wow, what a relief… Thank you so much, for allowing me to do whatever I want with my body, just as long as I sleep with you immediately afterwards… Isn’t that just swell?
I find myself inclined to ask: what if I don’t have sex with you afterwards? Is it still ok in your eyes if I choose to dance on a pole and use my own sexuality to my own advantage, excluding your male-centered chauvinistic gains? Golly, I sure hope so…
Your newly found appreciation for the female exotic dancer is quite… Well, quite something. As is your male counterpart’s contribution to the subject in the second half of the song, who seems to do the most impressive job of completely undermining everything you just put so much effort into saying.
This includes the first words out of his mouth:
I’m just tryin’a cut her up, tryin’a bust a nut
Tryin’a take somebody bitch, turn her to a slut
As well as his carefully calculated and considered phrase: (yeah ho) in between the lines:
Throw some hundreds on that ass, walk her out the club
(Yeah, hoe) Uh, lap dance for the first date
A simply perfect addition, which compliments whatever the hell you were saying beforehand (I believe it was: oh yes, the exact opposite).
I am profoundly happy for you, that you’ve managed to outwit a sad percentage of the public with little more than a catchy (or in a more personal outlook: a rather dull and uninspired) tune, and some lyrics with the level of intelligence equivalent to that of a middle schooler’s.
Taria Lorenette, xoxo
All lyrics are credited to Google Play.