Mama Was A Junkie by Esham
[Esham]
Mama was a junkie, sometimes I used to wonder.
Whether she would better of a live or six feet under.
Late nights go by no sleep, born into a junkies world,
its so deep.
Crack pipes, crack valves, cracked up person.
somedays its bad and otehr days much worst.
Used to never go to sleep in fear, trying to hid the pain.
and front like i didnt care.
The neighborhood knew just what had happen to me,
at night they said the devil was rappin to me.
But on the streets I could feel my mothers heartbeat,
and everytime she gets frightened, It quickly repeats.
The way a junkie lives and what the junkie gives,
hard times, and problems and stress with their own kids,
no sense in rehibilation, growing up in humilation,
the aroma of base makes me choak. I could almost
die of the crack smoke. Different men, going out,
and coming in and in my eyes I witnessed the first
peoples sin, and I was only three, they thought i couldnt,
see. But in my eyes Momma was a junkie.
[Chorus]
[Esham]
J-U-N-K-I-E to me some close their eyes and try not to
see. But you can still smell the sin just as well my
mothers unconscience and trapped in hell.
Now here life is on line (line)
stuck to the grind(grind)
time after time(time)
shes on my mind(mind)
Im thinking how could this happen to my mother not me bro,
but some nigga in my hood is slangin kilos.
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