The black, black widow is sittin' in the middle of the web, it's the fly she
   seeks.
   You may be her lover but you never will recover, 'cause she ain't had a bite
   for weeks.
   You think your the same, 'cause you got the same name, but the widow has a
   mobile home.
   Remember what I told you, she got eight arms to hold you, and she's never gonna
   let your roam.
   She'll tuck in your head, then she'll wrap you as a midnight snack.
   So if you see a spider, don't you sidle up beside her
   Why'd you think the widow's wearin' black?
  
   Queen bee, baby
   Pray that you may be left on your own, uh huh
   Nothin' she'll give you, gonna outlive you
   But the queen bee's never gonna be alone.
   Long before Atlantis there has been a praying mantis and you knows why he's on
   his knees.
   He may have religion but he's just a sittin' pigeon if a woman even stars to
   tease.
   He won't even quibble if she has a little nibble on his neck, what a way to
   go.
   And now you done and torn it!
   You been messin' with a hornet, she's a blue-blooded wasp, you know.
   And just as you do it, she'll inject you with a fluid that you ain't even got
   but none.
   You're the meat on the plate, not even first rate, she's gonna feed you to her
   seventh son.
   The queen bee's story, is the power and the glory, of the women who have ruled
   alone.
   Little Nefertiti used to consummate a treaty in the bed as much as on the
   throne.
   Everyone was urgin' Queen Elizabeth the Virgin, just to try a man but she'd
   refuse.
   Queen Isabella was the one who said this fella named Columbus ought to take a
   cruise.
   Didn't Cleopatra try to gratify and satisfy the men she held within the grasp?
   The pyramids where shakin' from the peace that she was makin' but she ended
   with a stupid asp.
  
   The Queen Bee, no way, and even tho' they think they're the kings (egotistical
   things)
   Who are they foolin'? playin' at rulin', it's the Queen behind the scene who
   pulls the strings.
  
   So, in conclusion, it's an optical illusion, if you think that we're the weaker
   race.
   Men got the muscle, but the ladies got the hustle, and the truth is staring in
   your face.
   The mother bear stalks, and the queen of the hawks, is the one who brings home
   the bread.
   The lion that is regal, and the bald headed eagle, need a woman just to keep
   them fed.
   But come the evenin', we're like Adam and his Eve, inside the garden. Hear the
   serpent's sound?
   It's so frustratin', when you're really into matin', and there ain't a lovin'
   man around.
  
   Whoever wrote this story
   Throw out the glory
   Bring in the men (give me them and I'll swing)
   Write me a sequel
   Give me an equal
   And I'll give that man
   I'm gonna give that lovin' man
   I said I'm gonna give that lovin' man
   I'm gonna give him that lovin' sting! Zap!