I know most people can feel their heart beating. Mine seems to always be screaming. ******, I ******* hate formalities, especially since it’s actually a comfortable way of making people adapt to me. Quit practicing ways to manipulate and make you plain. Gold chains on me, but that and all these gold rings don’t mean a thing. It’s a game homie. I gotta keep a brain on me. My mind races to different places to put back what’s sacred in replace of the hatred created in this matrix, so taste this food for thought. The longer I live, the more I’m complacent. It’s not like I’m complaining but this life **** is draining. Feels like I missed out on life training. Now I’m stranded tryna keep up with the others playing, but I’m a bench warmer to your Lebron levels of slaying. I’m blaming myself, sick and tired of hearing everyone’s intents of fame and wealth. What about your mental health? Isn’t it worth that Gucci belt? Do your eyes even see or have you ever felt true love itself? I’m talking about the love for yourself, somebody help. My life isn’t a script. I can’t plan ****, everything that’s happened, couldn’t have been destined. I’m reckless, so ain’t no way I’ll get blessings. Don’t follow me. One dollar can be the ticket you’re missing to godly things, and I’ll probably just be watching while you leave and remain here on my feet in a place that’s home for me. So if heaven is where they’ll be, then I’ll dance with a manikin since that’s just the will in me. A legend, and this **** isn’t really a message, this is more like a confession. End session