Everything besides the Fun



I went to school to make some bread

Just like crescents

But everybody lies and says its fun and hands on

Mr. Miyagi’s math and over priced lunch

There are super crazy drugs

You can get them how you want them

They offer new times like a subtle change in font and magazines

Leaving you as the defender, waiting on their top spin

They serve books to feed and strengthen brain muscle

Which is one of their many unique hustles

Just one of the many things that they promise

Until they have your money and all your credit’s tarnished

First turn of preparatory pages determines legal ages

Whoever finished the bottled last earns the higher wages

We all want the truth but can the truth be told

Or sold from mouths

And we just make our own…truth

It was true, that many of my professors actually cared despite what I did or could have done

Or whose son I was

There was the rare case of a stale face

But I embraced to create space

For my future