a woman

The truth is more likely to stab you than to fight beside you
If you go against it; the right hue can provide new
Pride to defy a few people tryin’ to stop your reign
But while tryna deride due judgement, something still remains
Painting me black might make it feel like it’s still your domain
And you could gas yourself up in order to justify your gain
But I’ll explain somethin’; you blacken the one’s you’re shunnin’
But black just makes it hard to see your retribution comin’
It’s shameful, this impasse turned your disaster
But poor is the pupil that doesn’t surpass his master
Even poorer’s the master that inhibits his pupils
And limits the youthful, abusing their prime even if small
Even poorer’s the person regarded sublime at all
For those secrets are found with time and those secrets hardens his fall
Into his penance; his canvas always fated to be blank
And for all that, you have a woman to thank