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