Ok, she said write whatever. I wont be wrong or right so i might just write forever. I needa change that 40 to an A letter. Me quiting? Nah never. I made it this far from working hard, tryna be a star. Me and the boyfriend sit in the car, listening to intrumentals. Practicing to spit rhymes without blowing our tempels. Im like yo Big Pun is insane he spit like nothin, out his mouth from his brain. Jay Z never stain a page with ink, he can recite every word, every song and not think. I wanna do tht someday walk in the studio like okay. Heres what i wanna say. Now im saying stuff spittin heat, got ya tappin ya feet, yu feelin the beat. I would do this complex but i dont got time, i needa go somewhere next. I would say a few more rhymes but i gotta go get mines. Time to go, but before i do so, jus kno. I got money to blow.
October 6, 2009