by Amina Asha

I know I seem like the biggest joke
Cause I make lots of money from dealiní dope
But donít blame me 
Circumstances made me what I am
Donít wanna work for Uncle Sam
Gotta war Iím fightiní daily 
Donít need to join the army
Shotiní, robbiní, killiní, 
Seeing my kids rarely
This is the life Iím liviní
Wish I can stop time 
And rewind were I fell off
Some where in the ghetto I got lost
Out here on my own, raising my little brother 
Cause the same thing Iím dealing took over my mother
Donít have no memory of my father, heís just a ghost in past ages 
as a young boy I had to make my own wages
Now Iím just a sick bee in a garden full of empty flowers
fightin' in a thunderstorm, caught up in a misty shower
the vaccant high of the nights drill into my mind 
causing sanity to die
my conscious is multiplied by the smell of death
and thousands of voices sorround my head
tears I constantly shed, not because I'm a punk 
but deep, deep, deep down inside I'm scared
scared of me, and the man I've become
Iím a menus to society, constantly on the run
Repeatedly thrown in the pen
Get turned down for jobs
So to this day Iím still husltiní 
Not just drugs, 
But life in general
Donít know if Iíll live to see tomorrow 
so right now I'm planning my own funeral
Thereís no way out 
Canít turn my back on my homiesí
For those who know me
I take care of mines 
I canít stop what Iím doiní
Cause mentally Iím already ruined 
If you get a chance to read this letter
Iím living life better
I met up with death
It shot me with a black hand and took away my breath
My life, I didnít regret
I wasnít born a violent man
I don't know if you'll  ever understand
Circumstances made me what I amÖ

Circumstances by Amina Asha

© Copyright 2001. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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