Ain’t nobody can tell me they know me. I din play no game of truth or dare with none of ’em an not one is up in my head. I come from the streets and don’t act otherwise. If I say I need the money from that place, you better believe dat. I may be low; I may be worse than thug. But I got respect for where I come up from, and don’t think I take it light when I bust a place out for some C-notes. I’m takin’ care of me and mine. I do that, then maybe I take care of the hood.
If I end up in jail and leave ’em hungry at’s jus a chance we gotta take. You try feed a baby and two grown folk on minimum wage without the lights and heat don’t go out cuz you cain’t make bills and rent. What I got is no options. Have a newborn get sick and all ribs ain’t an option.
Think you know. You don’t know this. Ceeli work before the baby, and started back this laz month. Back when I was tryin’ to stay straight we got a plan to work opposites. She work days and I work nights. Then people wanna bitch when we yell and scream the off chance we be home together. Like that typa’ shit don’t take its toll. Junior need sum different. Ain’t havin’ him raised wit angry all around like we was.
You wanna judge? Judge dat. I go to jail, he got no daddy … maybe he still grow up mean. Still. Least this way he got a chance. You wanna judge this? Tell me what gives you dat right?