Emails, letters, jobs and school
Have made me feel like a fool
Overwhelmed with write and cite
In life I cannot take delight
But are you sure that writing these rhymes
Doesn’t eat away at your productive times?
I’d hate to see that because of rap
You skip everything else and end up like crap
An artist non the less I should be called
I write insightful rhymes, there’s nothing bold
Playing with words might make me look like crazy
But it seems like you enjoy to be part of this frenzy
Artist though you may be
You gotta pay the bills
And with no job, no money
You will soon be feeling the chills
Money I might not have, but dream I can
Before you shut my speech and my words ban
For all of you out there I have some calls
Do you deny that you too long for balls?
I admit I could do with a ball
But sometimes in life you can’t have it all
Oh wait, actually, why couldn’t I?
I’ll just ambush a poor innocent soul passing by