I dreamed before
Didn't you a while ago
Oh you're old now
It was a long time ago?
You had ambitions
Dreams of your own
Didn't make it so you shoot down
Everybody else when your grown?
Turn your nose up
Have the nerve to look down
While the real snobs look at you
Trying to be them and frown
We call it bougie here
While you say high class
You think that your better
Because your cognac is in a glass
I sip mines with the free cup
Or out the bottle
While I'm loving hip hop
Vh1 not my role model
But let you tell it
Rap is all about thugs
Rap is all about hoes
Rap is all about drugs
Puttin bugs in the girls ear
boy need a j-o-b
never gonna get you finer things
Like you see on tv
And if I just bagged bags
At the grocery store
Say the money aint enough
Don't see him no more.
If I worked on wall street
With stocks and bonds
They'd say I'm too much into money
Wouldn't be too fond
If I sold a lot of drugs
And paid all your rent
You wouldn't say a word
When all my money's spent
Its all about you,
Living through my better half
That bug in the ear
Now yall do the math
Just a quick thought. It never feels like my goal is to be happy for me. Its always to satisfy someone else. Why? Why must I conform to what someone else wants if someone else is not going to even give me the directions on where they want me to go? Don't tell me its for my own good. Last time I checked I'm not in jail, I don't sell drugs, and I've never got in real serious trouble with the law. Doesn't that count for something at all? Especially given the fact that its not the norm? I'm not the traditional American kid. I'm the traditional ghetto kid who's trying to find a legit way to feed my family and move my momma and grandma out with me. Unfortunately, because of people like you, its either dribble your way out or rap your way out because you frown upon your own people once you got a few years on your good job. Respect the fact I'm not running up robbing snobbish people who forgot what a bodega looks like because whole foods and trader joes down the block. Respect the fact I'm not looking like I'm gonna rob you just to laugh at you holding your purse with fear. Respect me period because I'm not your traditional statistic. I'm 25, own my own business (with a tax Id), and don't live in my momma house!
I realize what it is. I scare you. I'm dangerous. I have a mind that can think on its own. I have a mind that constantly thinks of new creative marketing ideas to prosper in what I do. I can do what I set out to do and not what you tell me to do. And the fact that you can't do anything about it makes you sick to your stomach and you will do anything to discredit what I am doing by myself using anyway possible and anyone you sick sorry excuse for a human being. Guess what: IT ISNT WORKING!
Ps: I didn't rant. Just made up for lost time speaking. Peace yall...
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