Walking to the bus stop 7:30 AM

Walkman in my hoodie pocket pop a disk in

Poppa doesn't get this that music is my safe space

I hate school hate teachers hate me for my bad grades

I'll finish last place honest I don't need this

Give me a computer and you'll see that I'm a genius but

Needless to say that I never got my way

Because they put me on probation then they sent my ass away

Type to move against the grain

Had to learn to think and act as if we operate the same

Gotta' fit within the frame of who they think that I should be

Or else I'll never graduate and get a job and then succeed

Therefore I agreed 'til I got released

And then I went straight back into the streets and started selling weed

Revocation proceed rehab insufficient

Either I'm a criminal or just indifferent

I wish that I knew how to write a song that was relatable

But every time I grab the pen I tend to make it personal

Music is my journal now I use it to convey

All these complicated feelings congregating in my brain

This a drug to cure the pain

So I deal it for a living even loved ones are ashamed

Steady wage non-existent but I'm comfortably earnest

I would rather be myself than some façade on the surface

No doubt I just wanna make them proud

Give them proof of why my head has always been up in the clouds

Hope they see me sway a crowd a giant smile on face

Maybe then they'll understand my mind and why I am this way

But up until that day

I'm gonna keep on doing me with little need for what they say

And if they feel me then then that's great if not that's fine too

There a seven billion people but there's none like you