Marsha from floetry instantly good ❤️💯🔥

R N B

Black Radio III

It Don't Matter (feat. Gregory Porter & Ledisi)

Lemonade (feat. PJ Morton)

Water

The Love Album: Off The Grid

Moments (feat. Justin Bieber)

Girls Need Love (Girls Mix)

Girls Need Love (Girls Mix) (feat. Tyla)

Something Else

The Greatest

I was browsing threads down Savile Row
Window-shoppin' for my ego’s glow
Then I saw you—pow!—by the mannequin
The kind of swagger that should be a sin

Cufflinks clickin’ like Morse code for love
That blazer fit like a silk hand in glove
Your trousers tight? Sir, that’s no disgrace
They filed a lawsuit for public embrace

Suits you, sir! Oh my days!
That fabric flirts in mysterious ways
Tailor-stitched with forbidden delight
You turn a fitting room into a nightclub night

Suits you, sir! You cheeky flirt!
That jacket’s got more game than a dessert cart
From collar to seam, you redefine grace
Even mirrors pause to admire your face

We met by the cravat display
You said, “You like tweed?” I said, “Namaste.”
Your tie whispered secrets from centuries past
A Victorian ghost said, “That fit will last."

Waistcoat snug like a scandal in May
You sauntered past, and the mannequins swayed
Those pleats? Illegal in seven states
Your walk’s a catwalk of shifting fates

Suits you, sir! Like a glove of gold!
Your vest could talk a priest out the cold
Epaulettes wink with unspoken lust
Your buttons hold secrets and dry-cleaned trust

Suits you, sir! A work of art!
You turned a tailor’s tape into Cupid’s dart
From hat to heel, from sock to smirk
You made polyester do divine work

Your look? Quantum. Your threads? Elite
That blazer was measured in existential heat
Fabric so fresh it bends the rules
Your lapels give TED Talks in private schools
If reality’s stitched — then baby, you’re proof
That style’s the Matrix and you’re the Truth

Shoulders strong like narrative arcs
You left skid marks in department store parks
Even mannequins whispered “Oh my word,”
And the cashmere cried out, “Suits you, sir!”

Suits you, sir! Oh sweet divine!
You turned a changing room into sacred shrine
A tie so sharp it cut through time
Even clocks pause to admire the line

Suits you, sir! You legend bold!
Even dry cleaners handle you in gold
Fashion’s final boss, its apex thread
With shoes so sleek they raise the dead

Suits you, sir! Eternal flame!
You made a herringbone whisper your name
Tailored not just to hips and thighs
But to dreams, illusions, and social lies

Suits you, sir! One last round!
Even gravity gives you extra ground
With that look, you’ve hacked the game
Now every mirror just chants your name

SUITS. YOU. SIR.
(Oooh… you knew it did.)

The Greatest

Marsha Ambrosius

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