Momma was born a hip hop head
She'd whisper beats and rhymes in my ear right before bed
We played dress up every day
she'd do my hair up real nice
when daddy had the good dough
mamma partied dripping in ice.
and even when the jackets were too heavy
and my braided head too tight
as long as I made mamma look good,
I was doin' alright.
How can I blame her
I only know pieces to her story
there were whole other lives
a long time before me
and to this, I owe her credit
not every day was a dog day
even when I didn't know what to say
I mean she gave me my words when I was four
it made life a little easier when raising the children she bore
And for as long as I could remember
or at least since the 24th of September
She spited dad
promised me she'd always give me all that she had
Wasn't long until she broke it
2 years since we've spoken
but we manage
Momma checked out
left me and my siblings behind
left me alone to make sense of the world with half of her mind
And so here I am now
ripped from my bed
An old beat drew me to write about the love that's dead
12:39 am