Writer's block, written on to the chopping block, waiting for the crowds, all their awe and shock. My head rolling off, migraine popping up, losers talking to me, yelling to me, “Was-sup!” Teachers told me, I could amount to so much, put my mind to the music, and now I bet they think I'm such, a disservice, a loss of good life, a beautiful mind, lost to rap and rhyme.

****** of crows or a raven flock? Hearing the celestial clock, going “Tick, tock”. Lost to time, and I can't keep track, putting my songs on the top of the rack. Lost my heart, sold, like a starter cap. But don't worry y'all, least I ain't going back! Laugh at me, say my beats are hella wack. But one day I'm going to be throwing all of you like hacky sack!

Only 16, and I've already gotten my heart broken twice. Every-time you talk to a someone, it's a roll of the dice. Adults think experience is what makes a man. I think it's the bravery to say I can!

I can talk to her, I can be with you, I can be immortal, if that's what I want to do! My music makes me grow, it makes me a man! Way better, than silly old life can. That's the way of my elders, not the way of me. I loved you kids; see you on the other side of the street! Tick, on the chopping block, tock. I guess a kid doesn't have writer's block….. Straight outta love and I'm straight outta hope, being broken by the current, crushed like a rock.