Pick Yo' Head Up

I was raised by two family's of straight disfunctional families. On dad's side we have a bunch of criminals, theivies, drug addicts bank robbers you name it. And my mother's side there were crackheads, alcoholics and hoes. My mother was the crab the got was a step away from getting out of the barrel and while pulling all the bitches leeching on to her up with her, but died from the strain and the stress of pulling them all with her. Shit, she even pulled members of my dads family up with her.

She should have done what she wanted me and my sister to do. Run, she should have packed us up and ran and not looked back. Then maybe she'd still be here and my sister's love for me would not have been corrupted...

I wrote this because I just felt like, is there anything better for me? I mean being born into that family.

Pick Yo' Head Up

 I was born in the ghetto.

I was raised in the hood.

Statistics say, "I won't make it."

Society says, "I'm no good."

My sister is a teenage mother. My grandparents are poor. One of my brother's is in jail; one was shot when he was four. My father is a drug dealer, and my mother is dead. My uncle is a car theif, that's right you heard what I said.

I really love my family; I try and keep it together.

But I can't help but wonder can I be any better?

Pick yo' head up little one, you can do whatever you wish. Pick yo' head up little one, use your special gift. Pick yo' head up little one, don't give up or you will fall. Pick yo' head up little one, you don't have to be like them at all.

I was born in poverty.

I was raised poor.

Statistics say, "I won't live to see twenty-five."

Society says, "Twenty-four."

One of my uncles is a con man, the other a maniac. My aunty is an alcoholic and my oldest brother addicted to crack. My mother is a prostitute and my father is her pimp. My youngest brother gang bangs and walks with a limp.

I really love my family; I just wish they could see,

I'm really starting to doubt that there's anything out there better for me.

Pick yo' head up little one, you can do whatever you wish. Pick yo' head up little one, use your special gift. Pick yo' head up little one, don't give up or you will fall. Pick yo' head up little one, you don't have to be like them at all.

I was born in sin,

I was raised in hell.

Statistics say, "I can't do it."

Society says, "I'm gone fail."

My uncle is a murderer; all of my cousins are in jail. One of my aunts sleeps in her car; the other has her body for sell. My father is a drug addict and my mother gets beat down. My sister contracted AIDs and is now six feet underground.

I really love my family; I swear I really do.

But when I look in the mirror I ask, "Is that what's in store for you?"

Pick yo' head up little one, you can do whatever you wish. Pick yo' head up little one, use your special gift. Pick yo' head up little one, don't give up or you will fall. Pick yo' head up little one, you don't have to be like them at all...