Verse One
Two weeks before my old man busted up in her
My moms never walked slow
Now she smoke crack, sit back, and listen to talk shows
I hope she don't eat pork fried rice tonight
See, the cholesterol already got my arteries tight
I might select even before she injects her lethal chemicals
to wrap the umbilical cords around my neck
Shit, I'm pissin' in the abdomen
Two and a half weeks old, already thoughts of stabbin' men
Unravelin' plots and plans for thievin' and shit
Immune to the gospel, not believin' in shit
Where the fuck do I go from here?
Cuz when the afterbirth disperse it's hard to persevere
I swear I can't fuck with it
She hits about two packs of cigarettes a day and I'm stuck with it
The asthmatic, internally scarred from crack addicts
Who share needles outside in the rain on Kraftmatics
and laugh at it
I guess for them it seems funny but soon
I be the nigga who kills for petty money presume
Inside this Temple of Doom we throw the womb
I bloom to be emitted in June, considered a coon
Livin' my life incomplete though
On the edge of destruction, invetro
Chorus (x2)
I'd rather not be born
than to be scorned in this world of hate
Where life escape me and stick me like thorn
Wild like child porn
-ography, the autobi of the unborn
Verse Two
Overshadowed in darkness where curiosity is my light
Fear it but very coherent that there's a fifty percent chance that I might
Not make it in spite of the fact, it's my life
And can't take it, knowin' that I'm losin' this fight
to contradiction
The love with the hatred inviting friction
Umbilically inflicted, watchin' my life go down like Christion-acap
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