Ain't No Harlem Black Girl

I have my parents to thank for my very diverse taste in music. My current mix CD in my truck contains Black-Eyed Peas, Gwen Stefanti, Sia, Credence Clearwater, The Judds, Missy Elliot, and Big & Rich. (The other two CDs also have no logical order). So the last time my mom visited, my husband was shocked to hear this 50 year old grandma singing along with all the pop hits as well as the classic rock stuff. Of course, my husband rarely recognizes many of these songs as remakes, which gives my mother the upper hand in the lyric department. But during this last visit, she stumbled.

"Few times, been around that track, not gonna end up like that, 'cause I ain't no harlem black girl, I ain't no harlem black girl..."

"What?" my husband interrupts.

"Ain't no harlem black girl," my mom replies. My husband erupts into laughter (which is ironic to me, because one of the things I originally found endearing about his personality was his ability to butcher song lyrics).

"No, it's HollaBACK girl. Hollaback. Like a cheerleader."

"Oh," my mom smiled. "I guess that makes more sense."

Sing on, Mom. You ain't no harlem black girl...