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jean grae - my story lyrics
[verse 1: jean grae]
“if i could swim a thousand lakes to bring your life back…” i write
that, but infinity can’t rewind facts. you are
divinity. my primitive mind was struggling
just to understand the meaning of life, forgive me
i never told my mommy, i couldn’t break her spirit. she always
wished her daughter extraordinary thinking, so i
traveled alone, young, sixteen, got in
the habit of not staying at home, doing the
sad walk like bill bixby, a dollar fifty
trips to the hospital so that medicaid could fix me
i couldn’t eat sh-t. i fainted frequent
on cold floors and i pause and i think, “keep it”
i’m lost. my four friends know and just
f-ck at the boys’ apartments for rent, so i’m all
wishing that it’s a dream ending soon. i’ve actually
erased a lot that i’ve been through
[hook: jean grae]
see, when
the rain comes down
i know it’s falling for me
and only for me
and when
the pain comes around, there’s nowhere
else i rather would be
i know what i’ve done (please forgive me)
[verse 2: jean grae]
now all my bitter homies saying, “that’s what men do.” feeling
r-t-rded for seeing partner potential. on top
of that, the doctors telling me a heart murmur. i can’t
take it, i’m contemplating a glock burner, a
cop murderer. i can’t leave. this can’t be
the tears streaming, and i can’t see they lanced me
and i’m p-ssing out, and this is just for blood. they had
to cover the m-ss amounts. i’ve had enough
and you don’t know what it’s like in waiting rooms, and out-
-side, their picketing pictures could slay you
they’re screaming, “victims,” and spitting ‘til they shame you
i hold my head low and shiver, push my way through
they put you in a room where you can change into
your gown and shower cap, shaking as a fiend would do
and that’s when you think of leaving, fleeing the building
and then they call you and you’re hearing the call of your children
they count down from ten now. you wanna stop ‘em, but
you say it in your head: you’re out for the cut
and then you wake up in another room with plenty others
they call it recovery. you’re thinking, “we ain’t mothers”
and then prescription pills, written a ‘script with chills
an understatement. you’re dressed but you’re naked still
and your brain won’t think straight
wait. can’t finish this
[hook: jean grae]
see, when
the rain comes down
i know it’s falling for me
and only for me
and when
the pain comes around, there’s nowhere
else i rather would be
i know what i’ve done (please forgive me)
[verse 3: jean grae]
i kept it bottled up. my parents found the pills
screaming, “god what have you done?” cried ‘til i snotted blood
then got a gun. my temple ran quick though
from the thought, then the worst: i was caught in the same place
a year later. for me, that’s when hatred started
my faith martyred. i’ve dated the father of a father
then i moved on. years p-ssed, the guilt’s
worse and it builds ‘til your heart’s smashed
then i miscarried. twenty-two age, i was headed to
a breakdown, swallowed up some pills and i laid down
i was a failure at that too, bailed from
the rap then, but fate took me back in
“sing” is a tattoo my fingers attached with. twenty-seven
with three kids that i never met. what if i
was catholic? wonder if they hate me, thinking how
their mother could ever murder? well take me, h-ll
to the depths where the brimstone chokes me constantly
i am a monster, see. how could i possibly
correspond with god when i gave the authority
to end their life?
but it’s never over, even if we have a child
they could have had a brother or a sister or both
i’m thinking about another life that almost got close
praying that, in another time, we could have changed posts
if i could just reverse time, i would
i don’t know what i would do. honestly, it’s not good
i’m sorry…
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