daddy wasnt no preacher

momma wasnt no saint

and that baby girl shared the same fate

only dealt one hand so you take what you can

and be damned if something get in your way

see its a certain cloth i was cut from

and me and others just aint thesame

only one chance cant let it go waste

dirt underneath my acrylics no grace

 

that gritty chick from the south

they always talking abt

im still the same hillbilly pop a girl in they mouth

i was 15 overtime at the cookout

18 strippin down

im bout to be 21 n up roun half a mill now

and ian stuntin on nobody boo

just proud i guess

put down the pleasers picked up the boots

let my pen do the rest

the last thing i could do is rest

the hustle in my bood

i mean w my chest when i say i really got it out the mud

homeless warshin off w buckets of rain water

im the coldest

if you here now you was w at my lowest

put down beans picked up my focus

white trailer trash turn to a trailer park poet

top dog now cant go back to bitch

a hill to climb and i mole that shit

remeber just a penny in my pocket

all i had was drive and i cant say id be the same without my pride grammy said youd be a star and i wan prove her right

bitches must be out they mind

this here mine

if i take the building down

its still what Big C spends

Big C pen

Big C now Big C then

been just me mf

still clawin up the dirt til my acrylics change color some things just cant change but that aint how i was raised

its been dark but theres sunif its shade

and if i gotta beat down every goddamn door in my way thats what ill do and ima do it w a smile on my face no grace