Just a Start

I put the pen to the pad; just tryna catch a grasp, judgment never lapsed but reality fading fast. In a world where you judged off the past, niggas just tryna make this shit last. Everybody got haters that hate, I can’t sit back and potate, but keep it in the rotate, airborne, catch, up or get passed up on, pour up, gotta have a half past half, full cup. No fighting to get into a bracket, just tryna get these letters on my jacket, team-player no half slacking, layers to peel, for me no cracking, taking no breaks, custom built everything well-placed.  Past that ensemble of the high-school stage, just give me my band parade, theme-song I’m marching to is my own serenade, freshly paved in streets that smell like sweet pomade. Trying to relate to the non-relatable, visioning the grand scheme of things, reading between lines that don’t exist, scrambling to find out what it all means;  Unfortunately, having all the answers doesn’t give you the best question; but having the key opens doors to all of your life’s blessings.  Hard to get the point across with a window’s message; refrain from guessing, reluctantly facing the facts from a book called “Lessons.”  Life with not enough experience, I rather start reading at the last chapter dispelling all the mysterious.  Crabs in the barrel mentality, quid pro quo quickly turning into a fatality, all I’m asking is read this thoroughly, no brutality….