Roses are red

Alright, listen up, buttercup. So, roses being red and flowers not being black is supposed to be all romantic and stuff. But then BAM! Outta nowhere, we hear your old man's pushing crack from the inside of a jail cell. It's like a sweet poem took a wrong turn into the ghetto. By the way, I bet you don't even know what the ghetto is. Or flowers. Or jail. Or 'poem'.