You wonder why sometimes sisters don't want to bothered;
while you're fronting in the clubs chasing after stardom.
Chasing blue eyed wet pipe dreams, with tooth pick thighs for your teeth;
and you have the nerve to look me in the face and not even speak?
And you wonder why we don't want to be bothered, and why our noses are
always in the air;
it's because we have broken brothers that are present, but not all there.
You claim that the white man won't give you a job;
so that's why from the black man you must rob.
Then you have those brothers who want to thug out with no more time in
the inning, they're drug out; Resting In Peace in the dug out.
Then there are those brothers who refuse to stop playing boy-like games;
thinking with their heads and not their brains.
Brothers who'd rather run with their friends than staying home being
fathers; and you can't figure out why we don't want to be bothered.
Yeah I get upset to see my brothers in such distress;
because with so much to be happy about they chose madness.
The brothers who don't know if they want to be kings, drag queens, or
play things; and then they wonder what's bothering me.
I'm nine to five and your nickel and dime; shouting at me can you get
some time? And you wonder why I decline.
Yesterday your name was Jonathan but today it is Hassan; Sunday you
were singing on the choir, today you're marching with Farakhan.
Warriors for the cause or winos on the curbs?
City slicking Ricks or Preppy Jeffrey's from the Suburbs?
So damn right I have a reason to be mad because you brothers don't have a clue;
And yet you continue to wonder why we don't want to be bothered with you!!