diva is a female version of a hustla?

Hmm...

When I first heard this song i frowned in confusion. I always thought a hustler was someone that like... did what they had to do to make money and worked real hard for it.. and i also thought a diva was someone who thought highly of themselves, was dramatic, and liked things handed to them... according to beyonce im wrong.
me and some friends were discussing this 'definition of a diva' and we decided that maybe a prostitute [along with other types of females] would be more of a definition of a hustler... like a prostitute does what she gotta do [..just happens that its with her body] to make money.. u kno? i'm sure there's a better definition but that was of the top of the dome...
but then my other friend brought up that.. beyonce could be trying to re-define the word diva.. since shes been called diva so much in the past.. i mean it's true i wouldnt want to be known as someone dramtic, liked things handed to her, and thinks highly of herself... or self proclaim it atleast..
so i wanna know what you think..
is beyonce redefining Diva... or does she legit think diva and hustler are synonyms??

Intermission:

So lemme take this moment and apologize for slippin up on my blog game... my wireless wasn't working at my humble abode and as most of you know.. i am on winter break in the lovely montgomery county maryland.. i have so much to update you all on.. but ima take it slow lol...
heres a lil sommin sommin i wrote a few days ago when i was excited about going clubbin' for the first time [yes, yes y'all your girl was a virgin]
...and we're back

I'm thirsty.. ya girl is on the hunt,
I step in with my grace throwing breeze through my bangs....
you turn around and whisper to your boy,
and although I can't hear what ur saying...
the skin above ur brow must be transparent, I can see through to your
thoughts...
the adhesive of my swag must be double sided, you stay on my back and my
front...
our dancing acquaints us to eachother,
you observe by clenching my waist...
we connect with every 808,
the music providing a slower paste...
you're imagining your hands gliding my straps off my shoulder, your
fingertips removing my belt...
your tongue gliding across my collar bone, you imagine ur chest being
felt...
I can see it, I can see it
I can see it, I can see it,
right through the glass replacing ur skull...
I'm decideing whether I'm ashamed of myself,
for not minding your thoughts at all...
I wonder if you're a mind reader to,
if you can tell where I'd rather be...
smuthered in your skin and sheets,
with you hovering on top of me...

im not too proud of this one..
you know what i need already... is it complete and a title?


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