I'm eccentric, excessive and extremely entertaining.

I'm exceptional, expressive and enjoy when I'm explaining.

I'm enlightened, enthralling with an elevated ego.

Everything is edible and edits make things credible but evidently excellence is all I ever eat though.

Incase of cases of curiosity; it's best to believe it's both a blessing and a curse to survive as some cool kid.

I'm regularly rolling around in smoke; the crystal ball says I'm clearly no cruel kid.

I've lived and I've learned and I learn while I live like the youngest of oldest of school kids.

Avoiding a lot doesn't make me a rude kid.
Looking up-top just makes me blue quick; and looking down-low just makes me too sick.

I'll admit it, I'll admit it - I love being a cool kid.

I don't want to be tough.
I'm too sharp to be rough.
I'm ecstatic and emphatic even more than enough.
I'm not even lying, this is barely a bluff.
I'm a big bad wolf without the huff and the puff.
I'm a rebellious hipster horrified of handcuffs.
I hate that I hate when I have the hiccups.
My mind is a medley that's made when mixed up.
I'm convinced that confessions crystal-clear **** up.
You could say "**** it" but I'd say "it's ******".

Women and money make the world go round.
Gravity grips all the greats to the ground.
Poetry properly packs a pound.
Fighting is futile some research was found.
Sanity speaks without making a sound.

Last but not least - seriously, stick around - Magic's my tailor so my suits are spellbound.

Women and money make the world go round.
Gravity grips all the greats to the ground.
Poetry properly packs a pound.
Fighting is futile some research was found.
Sanity speaks without making a sound.

Last but not least - seriously, stick around - Magic's my tailor so my suits are spellbound.

It isn't funny how I think I know what's what.

The irony is, I'm sculpted to survive as either a saint or a ****.

It isn't funny how I think I know who's who.

The irony is, I'm the GOAT among sheep and this life is Zeus's zoo.

It isn't funny how I think I know where's where or why's what the way it is when it is what it is.

The irony is, I'm making my story not 'His'.

I'm forever ******* followed by the stains made by my magic lamp.

I'm a rebel and a role model like rolling ****** down a ramp.

I'm wide awake while dreaming wet when days insist on being damp.

I'm a lad that loves a lady like that dog called 'The *****'.