I got something to finish its called a poetic bloodline
It was meant for me to speak to keep crowds off they
Feet while they waitin’ for the next line in my poetic
Bloodline
I realize poetry was for me when everybody wanted
To freestyle against me but that wasn’t the end I got in
The mirror and practice and practice that bored so I stopped
And looked in the mirror and saw a light in my pupil that
Let me know I was my own pupil
At the same time I had people pat me on the back and tell me
To give my career up but when I’m on stage it’s nothing I fear
The same people you can call them haters same kind you can
Smile at and let em know you’ll see them later cause you will
This time they pattin’ you on the back tryna be yo friend cause
You got that paper
All that don’t matter to me I rather sit and let my mind free with
Poetry to continue this poetic bloodline I wish I had a cigar with
Some poetry dro to inhale and exhale knowledge and spit the
Truth which some refuse to acknowledge
I still got haters and they mind I don’t make it they hoppin’
I’ma take a break on this poetic bloodline while I’m hot and smokin’
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
hey i really like this one, it shows a lot of passion! great job! ! ! ~Kaily