By Autumn Morgan
Yep, I’ll be your Baby Mama
Let me see,
That’s the label
You want to attach to me
Now, let me get this straight
I spent 1, 2, 3, no 8 years raising this child
On my own
Now you want to come around
When she’s damn near grown
Who was there when she was up all night?
Who was there to cuddle, kiss and hold her tight?
Who kept the boogeyman away?
Who let her know everything would be okay?
I can't even tell you, what I sacrificed
To make sure she always looked nice
Each night I held her a little tighter
Waiting and wondering
How things were gonna get paid
Despite the situation,
I made her feel as though she had it made
Yea, that’s right you weren’t there at night
So you don’ know what I had to go through
The pain that I was in
Worrying, and wondern’
When my ship would come in
You see I didn’t’ have the luxury that you had
Hang out all night,
Rip and run the streets
Chill with my boys,
Run and chase some ass
Juggling three or for bitches
Trying to get some cash
No, I was home raisin', that beautiful child of mine
Making sure she was okay, even though things weren’t fine
Like a strong black woman, I took up the slack
Making sure food was on the table, clothes on her back
One day she will ask, where's my daddy?
Where has he gone?, why did he leave us?
Was it something I did?
Answers that only you can provide to our kid
I never ever told her, of the pain that you put me through
I tell her 'bout the good, I saw in you
So, that when she grows up, she wouldn’t have a slanted view
Do you know why I do this?, Do you know why I care?
I never want her to be hurt, like the way you hurt me
But hold on,
Hold on, my brotha…..
Its okay I understand, let me get this right
Hold up, How does it go...
Oh yeah, you weren't ready to be a man
Now, after all that I’ve done
You want to identify me with a hood label
As if what I went through was like a sitcom on cable
I carry the weight of men 2x your size
In the words of Maya Angelou “Still I rise”
Yes, I’ll be your,
Distorted in the head
Takin' all your money
Leavin' you broke
Wishin' you were dead
So, baby daddy
I dare you to sit and think about the label,
You throw around sarcastically
Is it really my life or yours that’s an Aesop’s Fable?
'Cause what I go through
Is for damn sure by no means a fable