In her newest single “Sponsor”, Teairra Mari decides to speak out for the full fledged and would-be gold diggers out there who choose to use their assets as currency for obtaining and maintaining the ‘good life.’ According to Ms. Mari:

Yeah, to fill up a drink for me
Yeah, to fill up my tank for me
Yeah, to put something in the bank for me
I got myself a sponsor

There’s no doubt that to this pop tune doesn’t represent the true intentions of real life women who fall under the category of the kept trophy chick, goldigger and/or high priced ho. Women such as these are working women indeed if one takes into account the many sacrifices made by one who chooses to prostitute herself for material gain.

In this uninspiring, contemporary track, Teairra Mari seems to take seriously the often shallow, empty and immature wishes of the sponsored whose youth, appearance and lack of substance transforms them from a real live human being to an animated blow up doll.

Yeah, yeah, he put them low profiles on my car
He treat me to a pedi plus manicure
Anything that I ask for from my sponsor
He go and bu-bu-buy, buy

Listening to the lyrics to this track is a lot like watching a lost episode of The Chappelle Show.

He must be a rapper, baller, doctor
Dentist, corner-boy, cook, chef, chemist
Yeah, I don’t even care
Just as long as he don’t say bu-bu-bye, bye

This may sound like sheer comedy to the sound of mind, however when watching the “Sponsor” video, it’s akin to a joke gone horribly wrong as Mari seriously projects the role of the mindless hoochie whose only concern is that her well-off man doesn’t leave her high & dry (and broke too).

Featuring run of the mill pimp rhetoric by both Gucci Mane and Soulja Boy, it’s disappointing to observe Teairra Mari represent those women who in part represent some of the ugliest presumptions about our gender. This prostitute manifesto titled “Sponsor” serves to paint women as weak, superficial, materialistic and quite frankly, stupid:

He ain’t no square, he just like to share
In love with the tipper throwing hundreds in the air
Throw some over here
And Louis, drop the Louis, put the Louis in my lap, damn

There’s absolutely no need to celebrate chicks whose intelligence is minimized and misshapen to meet the sexual needs of some dude for the purpose of using him as a living, breathing ATM. While no one can fault her for putting out one more “independent woman” theme song, it’s safe to say that this topic is counterproductive, stale and with women outnumbering men in the workforce, highly out of date.

It’s understandable that Teairra Mari’s long overdue album “At That Point” may be in need of a little life support but touting womanhood as a crew of zombies mindlessly consuming “blue medallions”, “mani-pedi’s” and all the other trappings of the so-called high life is not the move. Goldigging is not a worthy profession, goal or attribute. It’s a woman’s reaction to a deep sense of insignificance and a failure to see her own worth beyond her ability to play dress up and perform sexual favors – on demand. It may seem like everyday is Christmas but the goldigger’s life is an empty existence. She lacks authentic freedom, and is under the ownership of her Sponsor until he moves onto the next plaything. She has no accomplishments of her own and much like the average stripper or streetwalker, has a limited amount of time to exploit her youthful looks to her advantage before she falls permanently off the shelf.

To make a tribute song for that misguided population of women (and the men who sponsor them) is a slap in the face to independent women out there who are actually running sh*t, and an even bigger offense to impressionable young women who have the displeasure of being influenced by such garbage.

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