"Why’d I’d have a child"

The chances are I’d be illen
I’d be out on my own chillen
Without a father
Who loved me
A single mother
With no moral support
Chances are my child taken
Away after birth
By child protective services
Chances are my kids flunk out
Of school roaming the streets
Murdered by the police
For dealing drugs
Or thrown in prison
Without a chance
Three strikes your out
Chances are they be
Caught up in street wars
Dying because of a color
He wore outside his jurisdiction
Chances are my girl
Be pregnant at twelve
Her body up for sale
And ends up as a stripper
Chances are my son
Lives in a mental facility
Living gay on cocain
Hustlin stollen items
For security

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