Don't nobody ever like the ghetto baby mama. But you don't ever know our side of the story or how we feel so let me tell you 'My Side'.
FlashBack
"Kaarma Lyttle Faye JacSin. That's what our baby girl name gonna be when you get knocked up" J chuckled, rubbing my stomach. I studied his posture and muscle movement. "Perfect" is what I thought he was. His unseen hideous scars made him that way. "Perfect". From his round noggin to his size 9 feet was pure pristine Perfection.
"We 4-Eva okay? Jail or hell, okay? Always gone be you and mae, okay? Nothing can break us, okay? It ain't no bros before hos or chicks before dicks, nun of that shit, okay? You listening to mae? Okay." I asked/told while playing with my pinkie ring.
J looked at me with his big beautiful chestnut brown eyes and nodded. And I thought we'd be together forever
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