Shh... Don't Correct Me, Just Let Me Vent
Dollars made of cents, when you need em they can smell your scent
But when you late tryna pay the rent, they holdin out their mitts
Ain't no type of hints, they want to feel every penny, makes no sense
Nobody care what you gotta do, what you goin through, Just get it
Hurry back with it, bring extras to, We want somebody gifting
Not too many try to acknowledge that they were gifted
If talents harnessed and worked on they could be up lifted
Then that struggle part of the grind could meet remission
To keep it off tap into your crafted Discipline
Then the minutes seem to turn into a Million
But then a Million minutes turn to a zone that you shifted in
None stop grinding and hardwork piling
But you keep on pushing til it feel like you flying
Going through all that plus more yet smiling
Because you made your own lane, floating on a clouds silver lining
I just need that one behind Me, This something to put belief in
Possibilities become limitless, Rapid succession of achievements
Looking back laughing at those days of striving and beating
The odds now it appears that all obstacles have been weakened
Paint a Masterpiece and for the faith you had in Me you get More than Half the Piece
