Enemy of the State

It feels like they need me to be the enemy

To make their stories make sense, these niggas ain’t friends to me

They wish they could kill me but I’m not ready to rest in peace

I only take rest in pieces, I’m still here for them when they need it

If you hate what I say, stand in line and file for a grievance

I used to wear my heart on my sleeve, fucked around and became sleeveless

I been doubted since I was a fetus, I almost died before the crown

Now they still want me dead before the crown, what’s really going down

I show love because there should be enough love to go around

Too many hangers on trying to grab on me to slow me down

The coast ain’t clear, to clear the scene we would need to the coastal guard

People aren’t as real as they seem, but I peek holes in the façade.

The anger is misplaced, the hate almost made me switch states

You wanna eat? You either gotta learn to cook or hope for a quick plate

To be honest? It’s a clean sweep if you put me into the sweepstakes

For Christ’s sakes, even the iPhone X can recognize the determination in my face

So let’s turn up now, I told them lean on me like a double cup now

I told these fools, ain’t no more free game & that’s before the government shutdown

What now? I stand on my own two. I don’t do things unless I want to

And if being real ends up killing me, I’ll turn to a spirit and haunt you

Don’t be scared to call an audible, I’m 05 Peyton Manning in the no huddle

If I don’t like you then there’s no cuddles, they answering questions with lead, no test bubbles

I want financial freedom, I don’t do the stress struggle

I’m just here trying to show what’s best for you

Look at me king, look at all the attributes I can bring

I need my pockets full of C-Notes until the fat lady sings

I said I need 6 figures in 6 years, preferably less if we’re being honest

People don’t recognize you when you’re humble so what’s the point in being modest?

I feel like I been slacking on certain things to focus on others.

In the fast lane burning all rubber since like last summer.

And when God calls me home after my last supper

My worst blunder would still having unanswered questions to wonder

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This entry was posted in 20 somethings, Creativity, honesty, poetry, self-help and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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