My highlight of the day seems to be your Ďwhateverís on displayí.
My lust to live my dreams are just nags to your routines.
While youíre busy creating this bubble to lift you further,
surrounded by fake compliments and baked air to lift you off.
Iím busy creating life.
Reversed perfect murder.
Surrounded by friends and family, overdosed on love.
No positive without the negative.
No nosebleed without a handkerchief.
No succes without distress.
No friends without a villa, at least 3 cars,
a maid, basically anything but vanilla.
Youíre reaching for the ceiling.
But in reality your reaching where the ratís been.
A penny, or maybe a grand or three for your thoughts?
It doesnít matter, without either youíre at a loss.
Donít get me wrong.
Itís not the money that changes you.
Itís not the amount of wages that disperse because of you.
Itís not the height or lower class you spew on.
Itís because of the wrong tree you grew on.
Parenting is either bliss or your downfall.
A perfect duo or a pair of villains.
Apparently you missed a branch and a ranch call.
A-perfect worthless couple worth millions.
But even with such a foul head start,
you still get to paint your own canvas with original art.
Listen to your hardest working muscle which your parents seem to lack.
To keep looking forward you must afford to look furthest back.