Growing up
I mean, its not like they havent told me a hundred times.
Yelled at me in a hundred places.
Cussed at me in a bunch of lines.
Frowned in a bunch of faces.
They tried hard to shake my grind.
Think focus aint my basis.
Tomorrow is all mine.
As i am my parents traces.
Its THEM that have it wrong, their shoes dont fit my laces.
My place, my space, my design.
I belong in the future, cause today just seems so basic.
Indeed this is my sign.
My training wheels are distant.
Im moving cross the line, childhood was just an instant.
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