choice is a virtue
I wasn't raised by who raised you
who raised me I didn't want to,
but had no choice in the matter
the devil is dope my daddy was a fiend
mama was too loose, for her womb to be tight
my wounds became alright when I began to write
born a cub so believe me I bite
get too close I might strike
like a viper born long before
taped on diapers
only sleep in made beds no wrinkles
only do what I choose too
to tread on no one
so do not step on my toes
for all it's worth it might hurt
leaving me no choice in the matter