Chances are

The chances are

I’d be out on my own

Without a father

Who loved me



A single mother

With no moral support

Chances are my child taken

Away after birth by child protective services



Chances are my kids flunk out

Of school roaming the streets

Arrested by the police

For dealing drugs



Chances are my child be

Caught up in street wars

Dying because of a color

He wore outside his zone



Chances are my girl

Be pregnant at age twelve

Her body up for sale

And ends up as a stripper



Chances are my son

Lives in a mental facility

Living gay on cocain

Hustling stollen items for security



Chances my child grows up in poverty

And a statistic committing suicide

Or maybe he would to lose his life on the streets

As an innocent victim murdered by the police