Been hustling so long in the gutter
Scars on my arms makes people think
I'm a cutter, wounds came naturally to me
Ask my mother, honestly, she'll lie about it
Like my dad doubted, he was the father
It turned out he wasn't, just one of the dozen
It's a lot of shame on this name
For me to carry llike a cross
On my back to bury
Dear ma,
I won't be back, life taught me that
Keep on stepping as if every footprint
Counts and adds up to a life worth living
All I'm trying to say is sometimes
You have to slap yo mama, to wake her up
Not literally or physically
I'm not corrupt
What kind of monster do you think...I am?
I was created by...l am but made by them