(Jan 21st "Birthday") born to win, wit skin like porcelin i smiled to smile and my moms was forced to grin of course its him, to whom laws will bend call all my friends, i cant wait until meno-pause begins moms was talkin outta her neck like her jaws unhindged they took me away cryin as if my was neva sawn again baq in her arms, relaxin and calm playin wit her brace-lette battin at charms a video camera captured it all, his stature was tall the dude who put me in tha bassonette wrong i came fresh out the cisarian section, i varied in blessins a nurse commented "he carried perfection" but soon after i carried pertection, i was burried in lessons i learned sweet words, rasberry intetions razor blades in my pro keds, moms sayin go head afro weighted down wit da snap cap on my fo head my name sewn in, i woulda neva known then what the futre holds, what the wind blows in it wasnt cold no more wit tha windows in i was diffrent person, my ribs showed then