Everyday people see this beautiful me, but they don't know my inner mystery.

I walk these streets wishing someone could see, but people only see what they want to see,

No one wants to know the real me, all people see is my pretty face and my shapely body.

Damn near everyday there's a different nigga trying me, thinking to myself, why me? what about me makes you think its so easy to bag me.

So many days my mind wonders to this special place where i think about so many things, some tings i can't even say.

I think about telling people what really keeps this smile on my face. Maybe it was the way i was raised, taught to act like everything can be replaced.

I can't replace the faith for all the people that constantly lie to me.

All the love i had for that man that turned around and spit on me.

I just wish people could really care about this beautiful me.

Sometimes people say they just don't get me, but are they really trying to see me.
I'm talking about the real me, this beautiful me.