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I used to be one of them b*tches that I shake my head at.
Acceptance was my priority, but since my priorities where problematic, never diplomatic, kissing a*s was what I was good at.
But when it came time for some assistance, I didn't know where my friends were at.
Dependency was my primary residence and the essence of this mental aspect is that I am never alone.
But as of now, I am wrong.
And the downfall of it all is that your enemies in disguise are always down to see you fall because when you're standing taller than the fallen soldier, that superiority becomes your priority.
Just like being accepted was my pot of luck.
And since I'm a double minority, my priorities looked even more f*cked up then what they really was.
Looking like I'm standing on all fours.
Only a b*tch when I bark and a b*tch barked when she needed to be fed and lead on to release until she acts up and gets put to sleep.
Damn...they sleepin' on me.
A b*tches food is attention, compliments and sympathy.
Ain't that what make a b*tch bad though?
Those likes on Facebook and Instagram made me a bad b*tch but yet a broke bad b*tch with a broken spirit. A bad broke b*tch with no confidence...?
Damn son...where'd you find that?
America or a AmeriKKK.
Honkeys tote the glock deuce deuce then pop my people and now we hold the pickets up.
HANDS UP. DON'T SHOOT.
My head isn't always held high but I keep it fron hanging low. I'm ready for war until I can't go no more.
Before you twist ya chapped lips up and try to tell me to shut up because again I am a double minority who should be in a sorority, clapping and singing "I love my sistas!"
But f*ck it.
I love all my n*ggas.
Pause. Take a sip of this Henny.
Always preaching how you'll change but until then - here, Chump. Take some of my pocket change.
Here's a couple pennies to go and buy you a new excuse on why you continue to miscontrue which food you choose to let subdue you.
Feed your thoughts with the deficient and your sense when remain insufficient.
Easily influenced. Seen Straight Outta Compton now a b*tch feelin' like she's straight outta comptpn but I'm straight outta Columbus where my people's bodies drop like flies.
Turned Columbus into Killumbus.
My people, what are you doing?
Sh*t, what am I doing to stop it?
It's up to us to stop this madness and learn to find happiness.
Here you go again, Zhonny.
Practice what you preach!
I'm no better than the next n*gga standing next to me.
I'm high off loud, he's high off snow. He's goes through seven emotions with Snow White on his nose. Within 7 minutes, his feelings are in dwarf mode.
He's all Sneezy, then Sleepy. Bashful then Happy, back to Grumpy then all Dopey until the boys take him to the D.O.C. Wasn't smart like Doc but he never bothered anybody. He just did what he knew best, which was being a dope fiend.
Crackheads make the crack babies then those crack babies turn into crack kings until the crackers crack the mold off the cracked out boys then crack up once their cell door closes.
Then Trumped up on drug charges. Case closed.
