[ 6. 28. 15 ]
my pops bought into the hype
of bitches and money, he wasn't the type
to have a wife or a stable life
before me, he had such a desire to drive a phantom
i guess he became one;
knew i was coming, so he got ghost
even in mama's belly i felt her dealing with the most
she spent all day stressin',
how i came out healthy is a blessin'
age six, little me with a head full of cornrows
mama made sure her child knows
niggas ain't shit,
heard it so much i ignored that sentiment
wanted to find out if they were even that bad
so i lured them in by teasing with everything i had
which was a lot to give,
it's hard to live
as a girl with the body of a woman
while not yet being a woman.
seventeen, i walk the streets so mean
pink gloss on my lips and a sucker in between
short shorts and a switch to my hips
guaranteed to be giving niggas trips
to the E.R. without even wasting my breath
on them, a heart attack be the cause of death.
honey skinned brotha with a cocky stride
called me too cute to be walkin', offered me a ride
on more trips than one,
i wish i wasn't so dumb to fall in the web he spun
that was too heavy to hold,
my life got so cold
i found warmth in many men
they lit some fire within
but it isn't a fire with taking about;
they light me up then burn me out.
you were only another one to do the same,
kick me out or leave after you had me screaming your name.
but who am i to decide how i'm dealt wit'?
if my pops left me like that, i really must not be shit
so go ahead and be the next,
i'll reach another one by a flirty text
calling him the name of someone i need replaced badly
calling him no other name but daddy.
where's my daddy, i lost him in the streets
i find him every night in a new nigga's sheets
my old man is a no show,
the word father is such a low blow
he wasn't there like he should
and that hurt worse than thot
hoe
bitch
slut ever would.
