Morbid

I am no angel, I am no "chosen one".

Cold hearted and, no thought of the better life.

Mother is disappointed and, there is always dope to smoke.

Her hard earned money goes to a secret habit.

Mama, I am sorry I am not your dream daughter, Father left for a reason.

I am worthless, nobody would want me, not my family.

The thought of death every night, if I died before my old lady were to,

she will be alone, no one would love or feed her, no one cares about her like I do.

Once her last second on earth is gone, I am going right with her, she is my whole world.

A whole bottle of Prozac for my last moment.

Mama, Jr, Bella, Papa, love you to pieces.

See you in Disneyland.