I wasn't born with a siilver spoon in my mouth
But moms struggled to put food in my mouth
Even though mine wasn't the only mouth to feed
Moms made sure every morning she got up on her feet
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I promise you baby
I’ll massage that body like it’s never been massaged before
I’ll run my soft hands up and down your body
Ever so gently
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Let’s sing an acapella baby
You should know I’m a tenor baby
Let us celebrate this tenure
It would be a good song if we do it in the right manner
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Sniff that spliff and enjoy that whiff
And dim that wit
You bound to end up a nitwit
And no, I’m not nit picking
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You need to dismantle your mental infrastructure
Your head is filled with medieval ideologies of absolute mediocrity
And you subscribe to writings of apocryphal stature
You are doomed to a lifetime of a posteriori non-importance
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Did you think I’d come and go at your behest?
What about the respect, I request
You’re an adult
But still you have no right
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Like a true Queen
You were keen
To sit on my throne
Only to me, the King, you were intimately known
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Sanity constantly absconds from my mind
Vanity stares at me with a flatter in her eyes
Like shooting stars absconds the sky
Wheat on the field
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I’m lying here in bed in the late hours of night
I lay awake and I wonder what time is it?
I mean, time has been important all my life
I’ve timed myself through the most exciting moments of my life
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Like a river bursts its banks sometimes,
We need to extend ourselves beyond our capacity
We need to extol our shortcomings
In order that we could find the courage to be more daring
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