Warrior

Pieces of broken promises are what keep me strong.

Little girl play with barbies in a broken home.

Hip hop wasn't my escaped it was life that I lived.

I wasn't the cause to express the words that I'd feel.

It was a no to repress a reality so real.

Not a rap game, no virtural.

Melodic and hurtful

Like a bullet busting through my baby heart.

My injuries we're a tattoo. Not a scar.

As I sit ignoring the cartoons and at night listening smooth tunes and the stories of goons.

I learned to hear past the typical system. Studied with  my eyes, head and heart to really listen.

I made a promise that I will not be another wound... a bottomless pit of a black woman. To become a destroyer

My Music is my battle cry. Its simply a story of, how this wonderful black woman, became a warrior.