I’m not so sad as to hold a grudge,
but you all sit there ready as hell to judge.
You hear the whispers and I hear them too.
It’s rather pathetic that’s all you can do.
'She got married now she’s divorced'
'I heard it was love' 'I heard she was forced'.
'I’ve known her since before she got ill'
‘have you seen the numbers on that telephone bill'.
'She has a child whose father is lazy;
he never worked cuz he’s down right crazy!
'She’s so pretty why does she cover?'
'I wonder who’ll be the next damned lover'
‘why does she never go out anywhere?'
'Why is she hiding her long black hair?'
'Did you see that look on her face,
when she stood up and I sat in her place?
'She has so much potential to be a lady!'
'But she crawls on the floor chasing her baby!'
'She dresses in black and prays on the floor'
'She recites Gods name when she shuts the front door'
'Her mother is western and her father well he's Arab,
she’s like a mix of clover and scarab!'
'Look at the ring on her left hand she’s wearing,
that’s from husband no.2 imagine the regret she’s bearing.'
'Look at her daughter the spit of her dad.'
'Curly hair how dreadfully sad!'
'She’s lost her dignity, can you picture her future unfold',
alone with a child, who’ll take her so daring and bold?'
Well my 'friends' if that’s what you are....
its none of your business if I’m near or I’m far.
I don’t hate men like I’ve heard you all say,
your gossiping will come back to hit you one day!
I need not explain myself to any of you 'friends'
turning talk and lies into the newest trends.
My life is my child and myself and Islam.
You don’t like it well tough cuz that’s who I am.
Your jealous ways and he says she says will never bring you joy.
And quit dissin my child cuz she’s a girl not an Arab blood boy.
Yeah I’m a halfy and I cook Irish stew...I feed my daughter mashed spuds and all.
So sue me, how dare me, how could I let go?
of my culture my home my Arabian glow!
What you don’t understand is that in the palm of my hand lye’s not culture nor confusion.
But there within my steady palms lye’s my faith and my future to come, the perfect infusion.
Judge me not and practice your faith whatever it may be.
For God alone is our judge, who’ll judge as fair as He?