Good Luck Part 2

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just different

Here she go another hoe on the corner, alone in the cold world now her pimp don’t want her
Used up like a dish rag found in the pond, cut off like the fagget n**** up in the beauty salon
It ain’t easy for her to respond, just like any other b****, she either get cut off or turned on filthy rich
D*** like a finger cut up in a rose thorn, bruised up pretty badly but still develops like a mother’s firstborn
So she walks the streets heavy at night, coach herself through the worst times while being polite
In the shadows she don’t have to sleep overnight, collect on her last ends call it afternoon delight
So what’s her next move in order to survive, does she travel from a distance, while another man coats himself on her thighs
She appreciates them warm moment taxi rides, just looking across the fence, to see the grass greener on the other side
Left with only one answer marked on her chest, looking up to the sky, asking God to provide her with the rest
Forgive me Lord for what I’m about to do in front of the press, but I’m tired of this person, you left dead caught in the streets in a dress
Here she goes walking with tears in her eyes, broken down from what she used to go through, now like sun she arise
Up right on the corner approaching the crowd, the look upon her face shows, no more nights of that dark heavy cloud
Above her head rising trying make her fall, strong as she could be, she held up like the Great China wall
Never had a thing of becoming somebody else puppet, later on she found out she was dancing to her pimp daddy trumpet
It’s a shame when you think how it all suppose to go down, just like that J Cole album, we all come around after showing off that crooked smile   
Only her smile consumed her style, love hurt her back home, so she dedicated her life to the people who lost their unborn child
Ready to move on besides what happen in the past, the reason she decided to stand up now, she got tired of wearing that awful mask
Pretending to be something she can’t stand to see in the mirror, she yells from the top of her lungs for everyone to hear her
The attention she finally has for everyone to see her, the last words she uses is good luck and goodbye before her finger clicks the trigger
So as she finishes with her last words in the camera, the news reporter covers her mouth without a word or an answer
Done
It’s a flesh wound
It’s a flesh wound 2x