What's the matter? Bettin' that I threaten your security.
Denying and defying sense of "racial purity".
The tricks are 86'ed, there ain't nothing to be fixed.
Who you calling "mixed up", boy? I'm only mixed.
Should I feel out of place because I don't pick a race,
Take your stereotype and mash it up in your face?
'Cause if I didn't tell you I bet you wouldn't know
I was an O-R-E-O!
"High Yella Hero!" I'm hearing the calls.
The best of both worlds here to break down the walls.
"High Yella Hero!" I'm hearing the cheers.
This is going out to my Halfrican peers.
Wholottamulattowholottamulattowholottamulatto.
Got a checkered flag waving at full, full mast.
In Paris I'm "metise", in London "half-caste".
To the rebel white girl it's a dream come true,
Black enough to scare daddy but not to scare you.
Coffee and cream makes that dream so delish.
You wanna throw a little salt & pepper on that dish?
'Cause if I didn't tell you, you never would have known
That I'm the real Black Irish, the real 2 Tone.