She said, "You can't handle this
I'm livin far from scandalous
I don't drink beers, don't smoke cannabis
Don't need a man for shit
I'm an independent chick
Salt-N-Pepa type of heffa, yeah, I'm on my own dick
Never actin pompous, I'm strictly conscious
Got goals in life that I'm tryin to accomplish
A real good looker, far from a hooker
My first name's Brown and my last name is Sugar.
My hair's always done, nails always polished
Got knowledge, plus I go to a all-girl college"

She said, "Wes, you're a real cool brother
Damn, why didn't I met you earlier this summer?"
I asked why, she said, "You got mad flavs
But I'm goin back to college and I leave in two days
But don't get me wrong, word to my moms
I'll be back for Thanksgiving, so you know I put you on"

"I hear what you're sayin," is what I told her
"And it seems like you got a good head on your shoulders
And yeah, I must admit that your style's slick
But fuck that Janet-Jackson-Let's-Wait-A-While shit"
She said, "The more we talk, the more I'm with this
But don't get me mixed up with all these other bitches
I just met you, I ain't with it, but I'll admit it
When I come back I might let you hit it
I can't play myself and look soft
Cause in 1994 you know I'm comin off
I got my act down pat, proud of bein black
Don't need a nigga for jack, and my pockets stay fat