She is wearing a light blue flannel and showing off her gleaming golden bracelet that sits on her wrist. Her hair is dark black and very straight. I absolutely adore the picture; and every time I look at it, I begin to salivate. As a boy I just don't know what the emotion really is --- I never really know . Do I admire Rasheeda and want her for my girl, do I feel heterosexual attraction to her --- or is it, instead, something else I feel? Like the fact that I think Rasheeda is the biggest boss bitch to ever live; and I am desperate to be her?
Admittedly I suppose it is a bit of both. Or at least I think I used to suppose that it was both. These days now I am not so sure. My basic guess is that it started out as attraction but at some point, eventually, wound up envy. It sort of reminds me of high school, actually, when I used to follow my then girlfriend Mariah into the clothing stores like Victorias' Secret and what not ...or of course the hair style stores. I can remember always feeling a pang of jealousy running up the cold back of my spine . In fact, I will tell you the truth: I think a lot of the arguments I got into with Mariah all, deep down, revolved around this deep envy I felt, for the beautiful things she was allowed to buy-- but I was not. I think sometimes all our arguments really went back to that deep down.
I can remember going with Mariah to shop for all sorts of girlie things, because she always wanted to shop and had no car, and I would drive her, and I would walk around in stores like that f'n TJ Maxx for hours (so it seemed) just watching her get all the clothes she wanted. Not to mention the purses. Shit. The purses. Every weekend Mariah bought a new purse. Literally every weekend , like clockwork. She would spend so much time shopping for purses at low end stores, in fact, that sometimes, we would have kids come meet us there, and I'd sell them weed right in the store. That was how often it seemed we were there. I can vividly remember doing weed deals with kids in the aisles where all the purses were..... LOL!
For some reason it is a memory that has not come to me in some time; but now I can recollect it as though it just happened yesterday, and not well over 8 long years ago. I used to just sort of stand there checking out purses as Mariah would check them herself, anxiously searching for the perfect one. She never, not a single time I don't think, would take my f'n suggestion. Often I would be bored, and aggravated, and pleading with her to hurry up. Often a small argument would begin. Probably I was usually stoned. But was I also sort of always wishing it was me who got to buy the purses instead? To wear on my arm.? To get back into my Audi and put on some Rasheeda songs and blast them as I cruised on the interstate back home? Calling my imaginary nigga .... "just got me a new fake Louis purse baby ... be ova in a minute...have a bomber blunt rolled.."
Back then it wuold have only been the year 2010 or so. Rasheeda was in the prime of her music making career then. "Certified Hot Chick" and "Boss Bitch Music" would have been her latest releases at that point. "Boss Bitch Music" is genius; I have danced to it whilst crossdressing a million times.
Neither Mariah nor myself had ever heard of Rasheeda though, not back then, because we are northerners and 'Sheeda is from Da Dirty South y'know.. We were instead usually listening to someone like Fergie, I shamefully admit now, or perhaps Lil Kim or Remy Ma. Remy Ma for some reason I always remember well from those days. I always recall how I first met her in the "Lean Back" video from Fat Joe. That sure was one good lookin' black woman. I don't suppose I ever could have imagined ,back then ...Mariah certainly couldn't have...that these days I would regularly watch Remy Ma's videos....like a fiend. Just two nights ago she and Kim released a new one "Wake me Up". I could have cried as I watched. Queens. Total mother f'n queens. People on Twitter were making fun of Kim's outfit; they think she looks bad now 'cause she got all that plastic surgery. Well to Hell with them? I thought she looked fabulous...especially with the black Versace gloves she was wearing, pulled up to her elbows. Shiiiiiit, bitch! What I would give to have those gloves and wear dem just like Kim....god dammmmnnnn byaaatchh......
Indeed the only thing that would have made the "Wake Me up" video any better would have been if a third verse and a third femme rapper had been added to it. Preferably Rasheeda. I can imagine Sheeda coming into that video so f'n easily. True queen . She would outshine both Remy and Kim EASY.
Who came to crank this bitch up like a new Lac (Lac)
It be that diva Rasheeda, so holla back (back)
We crackin on these niggas switch,
Hatin on them snitches (snitches)
When I really try to think about why 'Sheeda is the biggest queen I ever met, I think a lot of it probably goes back to the "southern heritage". There is something ironically feminine about the southern culture , and it is --- or at least seems --- very different to me, than the northern one. This is strange of course because, on the one hand, the South is causing all of these long standing political problems that, we are told, are a result of toxic masculinity; and yet, when you look at it, and at the characters from the South, they often seem to exaggerate femininity in a way that no one from the North ever does. For example, Trina is arguably even more "wildly feminine" than Rasheeda, as a femme rapper, and she, of course, is also from the South, albeit Florida and not Georgia. What exactly is going on down there, a Northerner is left to wonder? How is it the case that the South could b simultaneously producing these lunatic Republican men who obsessively claim to be the most masculine men of all time --whilst at the same time producing these unusually feminine type women -- and even gays? Don't forget, after all, that one of the first "queens" of all of music was from the South. His name was Little Richard. They say he created rock and roll. He says it too! And though many years have passed and he has definitely lost his mind ... (he has renounced being gay in the name of Jesus)...there is still no doubt, at all, that he is Rasheeda's long back connection. No doubt at all!
I don't know. I ought not think of these boring historical things eh? I ought instead try to just sit here and float away and imagine myself as Rasheeda again. The thought brngs me peace. On my deathbed I hope I will be having fantasies like this. Death won't be some heaven to me ...it will instead be me closing my eyes and suddenly being in Atlanta, with high heels on my feet, in some gorgeous dressing room with all my girls, my bitches, preparing for a night in the hottest new club that's just opened. I can imagine it now so easily: I'll be lying there on my death bed, choking and coughing up blood, my family all around me crying, and of course I will be petrified, because I'l lbe full y aware I'm dying, listening to the monitor with my heart beat -- and suddenly my eyes will start drooping, and when they close, I'll suddenly get a flash of my new self , as Rasheeda, or someone like Rasheeda, at least, in the mirror. I will be desperately confused, not sure what's going on. "Bra this can't be real theres no way... you can't be gettin' this lucky...bra there's no way its gonna actually happen for real..."
My eyes will open back up again in the hospital room, my family there holding my hands "...no no don't go no no.... Jimmy .. no ..stay with us ...Jesus christ he's gonna die! Someone help him!! He's not even 30! Someone -- anyone! Jimmy!!! GOD Help us!" I will try to mumble something, I'll be stoned on whatever meds they're giving to me...my eyes will droop again, closing.... I'll see her in the mirror again, looking straight me. She will be 19 years old. 18. My new age and my new beginning all over again.To do things the fuckin right way. To not get mercilessly destroyed by Mariah being a cunt to me, in the end, and robbing me, and shattering the windows in my Audi like she did. I'll be at peace here. No more memories of Mariah, no more memories of the North, no New York, no Providence, none of it. I'll be dressed in just a hot flaming bra diamond bra with big gold necklaces that say my name on them, just like Rasheeda has one that says her name. I'll have big dangling hoop earrings in my ear like Mariah used to wear and like I always wanted. One of my bitches will come and pop into my face, Alyce, pulling out a stick of lipstick to paint me up for the night. "Gracias bitcchhhh!" Behind us some insane new hot release from Nicki Minaj blasting. "....See I used to be the wife of a king...Back when I was smugglin' them things in the bing... Now that I'm a boss bitch... It's a win-win..."
The heart monitor suddnly goes flat. I have died indeed, so far as this miserable reality is concerned. I will not have to attend this miserable Thanksgiving next week, like I am dreading, to see these cousins I despise and wish I could knock out one by one. NO! No more Uncle Dan. No more never ending screaming and shouting at the holiday table about how much racist Uncle Dan loves his f'n Republicans and his Donald Trump and his big red truck he drives around miserably in. It will all be gone; I will be reborn and RENEWED...like someone who is just discovering the Fountain of Youth... I will be SHEEDA! Yess bitches yesss....both my girlies on either side of me...sweeping me down some long dark hallway of the newly opened Atlanta nightclub...bright lights flashing everywhere...you can hear the crowd screaming for me ... I see someone handing me off a big wine glass, I take it and drink it fast...then someone hands me something else...I drink that fast too....when I hear myself speak my heart skips a beat... "no it cant be... Jim could it really be? Have you actually been reborn just like you dreamed? Is God truly this kind? Goddess? Whoever it is who has done this and saved you? Could it be?" .
A moment later and I am on stage. A microphone in my hand. My bitches are behind me dancing and I can hear the DJ beginning to spin the record. Lyrics I don't even recall actually writing start to pour wildly like heavy ocean waves through my mind. Female rap lyrics of course. Lyrics about being a bad ass boss bitch...getting hot purses...driving in the hottest cars...partying at the hottest clubs... wearing da nicest hair....
My new life has BEGUN. BANG BANG BANG
Google me baby, I'm drivin' 'em crazy
Ya girl so fly you can call me amazin'
Boss chick, that's the motto
We set shit off, we don't follow
We no gargle, we no swallow
Brush lames out the way like they did on Apollo (Brush 'em off)
Goodbye, adios amigo
I ain't stuck up I got a Kanye ego
Gettin' to this money like my name was Nino
How you think I got all this Luis and Rio
I ain't just talk pimp, this what I stand fo
A independent chick who be stakin' them bank rolls
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