Show Lyrics

Sharlok Poems - Dead Beat Dad
(from the album The Movement)
© copyright 2004

Come on, get it girl, get it right
Do your thing, do it right

I see you ladies, ya’ll working hard
Making sure that none of your kids starve
Working two jobs, coming home, throwing lobs
To your son that wanna be a basketball superstar
No car, 5 in the morning, you on the bus
After staying up late, packing the kids lunch
Yeah, he a punk, he play daddy sometimes
Don’t know how to call, forgot about the phone line
He on your mind, you hate his guts
You wanna see somebody put him on his butt
Just one punch, just one chance
You’d probably break every single bone in your hand
“What’s a man?” That’s your son’s question
You cry, because you can’t teach that lesson
Remain a blessing, sing your soul song
You ain’t gotta be a man to be strong

From the suburbs to the ghetto (Hello)
In work boots or stilettos (Ladies)
Get proof, don’t get mad
You didn’t know that man would be a dead beat dad

Working hard for the money, it almost works you
Breaking hard when you hungry, it almost breaks you
Take two Motrin to ease the pain
That dampens your spirit like clothes when it rains
You sustain, because there’s lives at stake
All give, no take for the children’s sake
Serving large plates of food, not one of them yours
Put the kids to bed, wash dishes, and mop the floors
On all fours scrubbing the bathroom after work
Spilling cleaning products on a brand new shirt
Your heart hurts, it’s been broken by them
Them being the new code word for men
Started out as friends, escalated to the next
In the heat of the moment had unprotected sex
Told them you were pregnant, both men left
Both kids had the same mom, daddy’s different


Break up to make up, lag home, cover your face up
To camouflage the places that his fist struck
He’s been stuck between a fist and a wall
With two kids screaming in the hall
Bruised back, broken jaw, sunglasses a must
To make sure your black eye’s covered up
You love him too much to leave, so he ups and leaves
In one love he just doesn’t believe
Gone with the breeze, he’s never gonna return
Leaving you with the question how will money be earned
So you turn to an empty space, stripping for dollars
While the kids spend the night over they grandmama’s
You, daddy and the momma, taking on both workloads
The warm in the cold when the wind gets bold
You gotta hold on for the kids, they love you
You’re their hope, their hero, their single mother