People ask if I’m sick cause the way I always sniff,Fuck yeah I’m a whole different kind of sick.Trapped in my room with the door locked,Running my card back and forth over the coke rock.It took me two weeks to pass my teacher and become the master,Two weeks til I broke, rolled and snorted faster. And dear momma it ain’t your fault,You never knew what it meant to fall off.Hearing me sniff behind the hip hop beats,Never knowing about your kid being a fiend.Finding the rolled up dollar bills and thinking “that seems weird”,But just handing it back to me like “I love you, here.” With my nose burning, drip running down my throat,The only fuck up left in a sinking boat.Because my girls mom died and she decided to quit,And my other girl had never really been addicted to it.Now I’m not saying I have an addiction, but the cocaine becomes an affliction.Whether you really crave or not,You end up just doing some lines, feeling the rush and thinking your fine.And it helps take the edge off a long ass day,Wakes you up for work so you could go get that pay. And dear momma it ain’t your fault.I love you with every bone in my body.Every time I snort I picture your face.It cuts so deep that I snort more just to take the shame away. I’m sorry.