Say, baby... can I be Your slave? I've got to admit girl you're the shit
girl... and I'm digging you like a grave. Now, do they call you
Daughter to the Spinning Pulsar... or maybe Queen of 10,000 moons?
Sister to the Distant yet Rising Star? Is your name Yemaya? Oh, hell no.
Its got to be O shun.
Ooh, is that a smile me put on your face,
child... wide as a field of jasmine and clover?
Talk that talk, honey.
Walk that walk, money. High on legs that'll spite Jehovah.
Shit. Who am
I? It's not important.
But me they call me brother to the night. And
right now... I'm the blues in your left thigh... trying to become the
funk in your right. Who am I? I'll be whoever you say, but right now I'm
the sight-raped hunter... blindly pursuing you as my prey. And I just
want to give you injections of sublime erections and get you to
dance to my rhythm... make you dream archetypes of black angels in
flight... upon wings of distorted, contorted,
metaphoric jizm.
Come on
slim. F^ck your man. I ain't worried about him.
It's you who I want to
step to my scene. 'cause rather the deal with the fallacy of this
dry-ass reality
I'd rather dance and romance your sweet ass in a wet
dream.
Who am I? Well, they call me Brother to the night.
And right now
I'm the blues in your left thigh... trying to become the funk in your
right.
Is that all right?
from Love Jones (movie)
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