| Out of the heavens it did rain
|
| Pamala Christine will endure, through the pain
|
| Barely 17, no big plans or wedding rings
|
| She was still in high school, ditchin' class, nahmean?
|
| She was not a fiend but she smoke
|
| Not a dream or a hope
|
| Alex would have stayed but Alex ass strayed
|
| Still she was knocked up, Alex got locked up
|
| Would have took binoculars to find where baby papa was
|
| Still the object of the story is the shorty with a shortie in her stomach
|
| Pamela was confronted, will you keep this here a secret?
|
| Could you raise it? |
| Could you keep it?
|
| Saddest part, this is deja vu got her thinkin'
|
| If the baby wasn’t aborted
|
| It’s be the second little Corey
|
| And I know she can’t afford it, she a youngin' in the mix
|
| Barely fill her own tummy, tell me how it come to this?
|
| I heard Pamela got a baby
|
| The woman got to feel the pain
|
| A damn shame, the child barely 17
|
| No more goals, no more dreams for her foolery
|
| It left dear momma weak
|
| What will it do to me?
|
| Pam’s got a baby
|
| Someone’s got to feel the pain
|
| A damn shame, the child barely 17
|
| No more goals, no more dreams for her foolery
|
| It left dear momma weak
|
| What will it do to me?
|
| Who know 'bout hunger pains?
|
| Suffer with baby sisters
|
| How many have you lost?
|
| Audrey and B. I miss ya
|
| Corey can never floss
|
| Hand-me-down torn skimpies
|
| Livin' with auntie, «Is momma comin'?» |
| it’s sorta iffy
|
| Daddy was never there
|
| I used to box with Billy
|
| Streets of Newbury raised me and I love my city
|
| Came from a broken home
|
| Folks smokin' marijuana
|
| Sniffin' them lines, I wrote rhymes on Park & Howard corner
|
| Felt like parent’s disowned us
|
| Spock and me used to roam
|
| Across the city, low pockets, lookin' for room and home
|
| You niggas deep into dinners, I said to each his own
|
| I got a head on my shoulders and plus this microphone
|
| Grew up with nothin', we made somethin' on them holidays
|
| For kicked out of school made momma a lot less proud of A’s
|
| Nicky, baby bro, look I apologize
|
| Just thought you could see daddy within your brother’s eyes
|
| Little knucklehead, wet the bed, many fears
|
| Got to 18 alive on my momma sweatin' tears
|
| And I’m here
|
| Still crazy
|
| Secrets revealed, wish I kept it concealed
|
| Cry baby
|
| I heard Pamela got a baby
|
| The woman got to feel the pain
|
| A damn shame, the child barely 17
|
| No more goals, no more dreams for her foolery
|
| It left dear momma weak
|
| What will it do to me?
|
| Pam’s got a baby
|
| Someone’s got to feel the pain
|
| A damn shame, the child barely 17
|
| No more goals, no more dreams for her foolery
|
| It left dear momma weak
|
| What will it do to me?
|
| Young teen
|
| If daddy dies of A.I.D.S. |
| don’t you cry baby
|
| Rat and roaches infested but we’ll get by baby
|
| Slept on that pull out so many nights had my eyes lazy
|
| Little brats on the streets, fixin' to die maybe
|
| Don’t want my boys comin' over, she gettin' high daily
|
| I coulda tried harder, to help you get by momma
|
| I now see how you lost your life due to my father
|
| Accept my deepest regrets, I showed you disrespect
|
| Couldn’t take all that yellin', I had pride to protect
|
| I love you Pamela
|
| I love you Trevor too
|
| Scars and scrapes, ups and downs understandable
|
| If you was me as a child I couldn’t handle you
|
| But you was givin' at gifts, see struggle and persist
|
| See trouble, can’t resist
|
| I’m changin' my ways, new books is in this music
|
| But I’m aimin' for A’s
|
| Nowadays even cowards spray, all I do is pray
|
| I’m cool to walk in your light
|
| Just help me find my way
|
| And I’m here, still crazy
|
| Secrets revealed
|
| Wish I kept 'em concealed
|
| Cry baby
|
| Cry baby
|
| Cry
|
| I heard Pamela got a baby
|
| The woman got to feel the pain
|
| A damn shame, the child barely 17
|
| No more goals, no more dreams for her foolery
|
| It left dear momma weak
|
| What will it do to me?
|
| Pam’s got a baby
|
| Someone’s got to feel the pain
|
| A damn shame, the child barely 17
|
| No more goals, no more dreams for her foolery
|
| It left dear momma weak
|
| What will it do to me? |