SMOOTHLY UNDER

My mind is like a blue print sketched out in pencil
What you call a day dream I think of as potential
But if it's the thought that counts I've lost track of the number
Some like to ride the wave, I choose to cruise smoothly under

Alone I
Sit in my room
Sipping a brew
Writing rhymes to one day be as sick as the flew
Until the ink withers through

And I’m thinking of you

About how you told me that I’m lazy because I spend all day relaxing

How I’m deep in thought but weak in action

How I’m filled with words but only mean a fraction

And how I say a lot but I don’t speak with passion

Well today, hopes of tomorrow we might share

While reality is right there

To turn our wet dreams into a 9-5 nightmare

So if your world is real consider me an illusionist

I think your drama is about as useful as bling on a crucifix

I’m not a revolutionist, I just find peace in doubting

Because if ignorance is bliss I’d much rather be drowning

And that’s why I overanalyze

And verbalize more of what I fantasize

Writing drunken rhymes through slanted eyes

Because I don’t want to be a picky in a hand of lies

Because I quest to be the greatest man alive

You ask why?

Cause I’m a Fucking Writer!

And so what if I only go to half of my classes?

Write my papers last minute, half ass ‘em and pass ‘em in?

I don’t really need a desk to truly grasp what’s happening

Just like to love hip hop, you don’t have to be African

It’s all just a pad to a pen

And it makes you laugh until you have to grab your abdomen

And lose your breath until you have to gasp just to catch it in!....

To ask the most significant question

Are you placebo minded or a lethal injection

You tell me that I can’t sit still or pay attention

When I’ll tell you that I think A.D.D. really stands for A Different Direction

Because I know that when I spit to perfection

I can twist this world like Florida Governors can twist an election

So would you like me to justify why I’d much rather write scripts in reflection?

You know

Its cause I’m a Fucking Writer!

I’ll be that struggling journalist making minimal cash flow

Clinging to life like soccer moms and Ritalin capsules

I may be a belligerent asshole with a withering backbone

But I’ll still be as fulfilled as an afro

Because my style is like a hot tamale rinsed and dipped in Tobasco

And when I open up my pen cap

And write until that pen snaps

I see my best friend, my own therapy

My own words, my own clarity

All real, no parody

And at that pivotal time

That riveting rhyme will tickle your spine

As imprisoned minds get released in these visions of mine

You’ll be that blank faced nemesis

You’re clinched fisted, I’m effortless

And my swift bliss scented sentences

Will leave you expressionless

But for now….

My wisdom is like a broken down car with no headlights

Which is probably why you can’t recall a single thing I just said, right?

But if it’s the thought that counts I’ve lost track of the number

Some like to ride the wave, I choose to cruise smoothly under

So whether you lose those battles or you’re like Rocky

Whether you’re labeled humble, modest or cocky

Whether wander alone or you sweat with a posse

Whether you flip burgers and McDonalds or you’re Emeril Agassi

Try and stop me!

Try and stop me!

Cause I’m a Fucking Writer!