Southern Comfort Poem by Myra Jefferson

Why my baby boy sittin' here lookin so poly
on a fine Saddy nite like dis?
Why don't you git out
and go sportin' about
wit some sweet and sassy young miss?

I tries to madea, I really do
but paw keepa shuttin me down
He say, 'Not huh son, no not dat one'
seem like ain't no girl fo me in dis town

He ask me huh name and what street she live n
and den he ask me if I ever kissed huh
den he say; 'Careful dere son
don't mess wit dat one, I think she might be yo sista'

Well son, it's true back in the day
he had sportin ways
ain't a ole wench in dis town he ain't had
but 'bout who to touch
don't you worry too much
'cause yo paw ain't really yo' dad