Mind zoned

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