[bad word] 
L: is for the liars that had surrounded me
I: insecurity, my head down in these streets
F: my future; there isn’t one
E: ternal hope, and this is my life

I wake up every day to the same old foster mother
I ain’t got no pictures of my mother
She was a crack fiend, nothing like Pac-mother
She didn’t make a difference
Even doe she could’ve MOMMA
SHAME, shame on my life
Papa tried to sell me twice
On the stop by
Look in my eyes, bags from the tears that I cried
And the people who lied
Telling me that this was my place
Phony tried to smile in my face
But I should’ve knew something was real
Smile when she open the mail
Kept a nice mink on her back
Meanwhile I got a goose and my gooses got patches
I’m so mad, this is me
I’m so hurt, this is me
So why should it be
But I’m a be alright
 [bad word] 

I’m pregnant by a dude and he’s not 16
But, I like his style, his whip is mean
Momma told me to find a man to take care of me
And he does buy me things but he beats on me [bad word] to her for a little advice
She tolds her something’s up with a black eye,
Telling me to know my place
So, I stay, wait for my body phase
Telling myself that it’s just a pregnancy phase
When all, in reality I’m being discouraged and disrespected and under depression
And I don’t really blame the man
I blame my mother for not teaching me the different types of man
Life never understood its stand
My side of the story being that it's so consistent
18 years and 9 months developing, raising in prison
I guess I'll never make a difference
 [bad word] 

On, on from a nothing to orphans, the least of my problems
Appears like déjà vu, stomach is starving
Free lunch, breakfast, evenly I departed
So ashamed of a life that was started
I ask God if He could take the pain away
He made me in denial of every word I pray
Every day it's the same old no talent
I’m feeling like my life is unbalanced
No telling what tomorrow gonna look like, yeah right
Wrapped up in a fast light for suicide act
Why is my life set up for failure ya'll
I can care less what the people say to ya'll
We break out in rage, venting all the hurt inside
Who am I to tell you what you failed to realize
The voice that you hold within you, the voice that you are, the voice of the young people
 [bad word]