T R U E S T O R Y
Written and lived by: nahsy
I really don't give a fuck if you feel me, I am going to write how I feel at this exact moment.
My mother had me at 14 years of age,
A scared teen, she screamed with fear and rage
She herself a child, of mild manner
Pushing me out head first with riled banter
Forced to give me up for adoption
By her parents whom believed keeping me was not an option
But got me back 6 months later, so she loved me, But still I payed
Because of the adoption
Names on my Social Security card and birth certificate still dont match til this day
My father? A drug dealer named Johnny
Who was 4 years older than my mommy
But that's neither here nor there
And I sure yall niggas neither hear nor care
So at age 5 I witness my uncle murdered, shot and slumped dead
With his blood matter and brain mass on my bunk bed
Over some fucking dope head,
Who put the gun to my mom and said he'd hit with smoked lead
If she didn't give up the drugs
So my uncle threw a hammer but didn't get it up enough
So it missed the dope fiend, then I only remember a thing or two
But it's the last time I seen him move
RIP Robby
So my pops had moms corrupted for another bit
On some Bonnie and Clyde, smuggling drugs, and other shit
So Johnny got knocked with 21 Kilos of cocaine
Then mommy lost her train of thought like she had no brain
Started moving weight on her own, talking big weight rather than dimes
But when you play the game, it's only a matter of time
So she got knocked too, took off the zone
Then me and my little brothers and sisters went to foster homes
Each our own, we were split up and shit
This is when I found the system to be corrupted kids
My foster mother was a bitch, barely kept me fed
And if it wasn't for the checks, she'd probably left me dead
On some fuck the little n.igger tip
So fuck the psychologist when he said I was a bitter kid
The white male, suit wearing, college educated hearing me out?
Like how the fuck is this nigga going to figure me out?
I mean he has never been through what I have or seen a killer with a vexed look
Charles the psychologist learned about my problems from a text book
So fuck this want to be know it all handy man
I only went because I'd get free candy after playing candy land
And what the fuck is up with psychologist playing board games with you
Like he could really diagnose you whether you're tame or rude
I mean doesn't everyone get a little angry when they lose?
And then a little happy, when they get to choose
Whether they get the blow pops or pop rocks I lifted up my skully to see
Homo candy choices and shit, but pop rocks was more gully to me
So at age 12 moms popped back up,
Back to selling crack, and trying to rack up
Back to the bing, with 2 strikes and foster homes again
Only God knows the end
But I'll tell you this, this is only half my life
So multiply by two and see the of half of my strife
I never got to be a kid, grew too quick
But I guess the important thing is I got through it
So besides my sis getting merked out I'm witnessing a little joy
But on some real shit When I grow up I want to be a little boy
one
__________________
RSTL CHAMPION OF SEASON I
Yes, as in the entire season.
A bitch tried to stick me
Cause you fuck me don't mean you can kiss me