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I met Eboni at a 70’s party
She was too Angela Davis looking
Too be free and live in harmony
Tell me…what kind of corn is hominy
This is hard like trigonometry
or concrete if you fell on it…tell on it
Back to the party it was getting started
It was jumpin my foot was tapping
My head was bobbin and my fingers were snappin
I was in there like…wuz up, wuz happenin
A room filled with corn rolls and afros
Bright colors, long collars, polka dots and plaids
A soul train line was form so many times
I thought I was about to lose my mind
If I heard “ah she’s a brick house” one more time
8 tracks and rewinds still I had a real good time
Nobody was fighting no guns were drawn
Everybody made it safely home
I called Eboni on the phone
She didn’t answer like she wasn’t home
Hittin ignore like she wanted to be left alone
So I started lookin for my black book
Wait a minute... my mind…is zoned
