False Start #64
A friend of mine slings a new rap record over to me, Drake’s Take Care. “Over My Dead Body” rattles around in my head while I’m in the shower.
Rappers. Every single record it’s the same, gloating about the money, the fame, the life. Bling blingin’ and shit. Show boatin’, ego affirming drivel. And still, I never get tired of hearing about it. “Why?” I’ll ask myself.
Then I realize, that deep down, deep down in the lonely vault of the heart we see our lives as great productions with booming synthesizers in the background, productions worthy of projecting into the minds of others, billboard productions to spring others to life… if only we had the words.
Yeah.
Like feeling my power, steppin’ in my shower, soakin’ down my hair with pert plus, man it’s the bes’, don’t make a fuss. Jumpin’ out an dryin’ off in the freezin’ cold, see my face in the mirror, man I’m gettin’ old. I’m almost 30 and I got less than 30 g’s, sing it wit’ me, man, if you feel me, please.
Yeah.
People keep asking me where I’m going. If I’m really hitting my stride. What the hell, man, you think I just do what I do for fun, turning down promotions just to keep myself alive? I’ve got projects on the pot, I’m waiting to set them live, I live my life in China land, sweet so sweet it ain’t a dive. But you get distracted, man, pulled away from the things you think are right. Drank too much beer at my local pub last night man, lost everything I came with.
Yeah.
What you online bloggers? Silent scribblers in the midst? Think you’re livejournaling is the shit, man. You want to be a funny guy? I’ll crack my fingers and flick off something that you can’t handle, man. Leave you shame commented you can’t hold on to nothing, not even your pride, huh?
But yeah, it’s alright feelin’ stronger. Feelin’ better. Livin’ life alright. Gonna sleep tonight. You just keep goin’ on and on. And there’s crazy folks all want iPhones over here, out in China, man, and it’s alright.