Blessing or Beast?

As a youngin’ I was considered a blessing.

Born at six months; I beat the odds.

Went on to battle a school district and I lost.

Dropped out at seventeen; went on to achieve the equivalency. Fuck every teacher that tried to hold me down; I strive to be successful, and I’ve got a drive like no other. Now that I’m grown bitches be envious as fuck.

I turn everything that I touch into golden opportunities. I guess I’m lucky, or maybe I’ve just got the right touch. Go ahead and pick your cliché, I’m all good either way.

(Chorus Blessing or beast? I do right by my fam, never forgetting how I grew up, cleaning houses and office buildings.

Where our minimum take home pay consisted of a twenty-five-dollar check. Now my mama answers to no one; rubber gloves officially hung up.

From flat broke to living in the nice part of town, ain’t it funny how karma comes back around?

Blessing or beast? I will never stop chasing after these dreams. This beast has set out to achieve, now I’m nearing twenty-seven and I’m still fresh. Bitches bow down to the best.

Pen to paper, is it possible to make a steady living writing? If so, here’s a bunch of lyrics and a few books. Ain’t it funny what imagination can translate into words? From the first word to book tours. It’s enough to make a sane person go bat shit. Barely surviving, living from check to check, transform into a fairy tale resolution. This sort of thing just doesn’t happen, and of course my natural instinct is to grab more, let the beast roar.)

I will never rest, even when I’m at the top of my game; I’m gassed up. I’m ready to fly. I don’t know where this road will lead… But I’m not quaking, embrace this brand-new life, I’m on another level high. Mixing in with high class peeps and old money, but I can’t allow this life style to affect me.

I can hear the beast rising up in my chest and I find myself thinking, how much ambition is too much? Do I really want all of this? Money and the fame, that makes for one bad lil monster. Arrogant ego deflate I don’t need all of this glamour. I tell myself, bitch be humble, remember who you are.

(Chorus Blessing or beast? I do right by my fam, never forgetting how I grew up, cleaning houses and office buildings.

Where our minimum take home pay consisted of a twenty-five-dollar check. Now my mama answers to no one; rubber gloves officially hung up.

From flat broke to living in the nice part of town, ain’t it funny how karma comes back around?

Blessing or beast? I will never stop chasing after these dreams. This beast has set out to achieve, now I’m nearing twenty-seven and I’m still fresh. Bitches bow down to the best.

Pen to paper, is it possible to make a steady living writing? If so, here’s a bunch of lyrics and a few books. Ain’t it funny what imagination can translate into words? From the first word to book tours. It’s enough to make a sane person go bat shit. Barely surviving, living from check to check, transform into a fairy tale resolution. This sort of thing just doesn’t happen, and of course my natural instinct is to grab more, let the beast roar.)

Desires and necessities, they’re a funny thing, and for me the line between can blur. Fuck these fancy things, the high life ain’t for me. Take back the Gucci, I’d rather just be ordinary, so I’ll draw my line in the sand.

Blessing or beast?

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