The chances are
I’d be out on my own
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
Arrested by the police
For dealing drugs
Chances are my child be
Caught up in street wars
Dying because of a color
He wore outside his zone
Chances are my girl
Be pregnant at age 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
Hustling stollen items for security
Chances my child grows up in poverty
And a statistic committing suicide
Or maybe he would to lose his life on the streets
As an innocent victim murdered by the police