put her on the table get her back spread
tried and pushed, out comes the son of a crackhead,
mother glancing round the room in joy thanks god for her boy
but mad problems exist nuff money for food... but no toys
but she figured he'd be jus fine,
but his dad would lie, to smoke up a dime, he coulda just tried
but replied by leavin a son and a daughter, alone wit their mother, fucked up
kids tried to stop it, all they said was shut up,
couldnt stand eachother anymore so he chose the door,
nothing but floor, the boy tried to run after him... stumbled and fell,
four years later father ended up in a jail cell,
now his son's growing, no male figure, not knowin, which way he was goin
then his dad showin, he got out of the pen
he'd figure he'd bounce and to florida he went, son is hell bent
stressed, callin his father every night,
hopin he'd come back,maybe he might,
learnin to fight, he got older days got colder
but rollin through strong like a boulder, he figured he'd grow up
his teen years were goin by fast, deciding to move to florida
at last, finally wit his dad, but the problems they had
he would come back fast, saw crap, that lingers in ya mind in the back
and grasp, all memories he came to engulf, like fire,
they made him rugged and tough, fucked wit any1 who bucked
got cuffed and caught luck, now he's tryin to change his life
swearin he would never be like how his dad was to his wife
doin aight, now he's seventeen, wipes bullshit out wit toiletries
doesnt like fakes and he foils greed
this story aint fiction because that boy is me