I am more than 140 characters.
More than your operations manager.
More than the dude dancing like its ’92 to a hot club banger.
(Pump, pump, pump it up)
I’m more than the peace u go running for when your running from hurt, harm or danger.
More than the seemingly angry black man you approach despite the fact that I’m clearly a stranger.
I am more than whatever question you ask me.
More than the love/hate relationship we have.
More than any lust for cash.
I am more about reflection as oppose to always pointing the finger at you.
But I’m also more about keeping to myself, therefore disclosing very little.
But I am more than tact and matters of practice.
Cuz I’m more like experience is a valuable lesson…
but only if you know how to apply it.
Accept it or deny it. Open your eyes or remained blinded…
But then I’m reminded.
That applying it might not be for everybody…nothing ever is.
So some jokas just won’t get it…and that just is…
A hard pill to swallow but everybody aint promised tomorrow.
Not destined for happiness nor success yet self-loathing drowning in sorrow.
Never having, always in a position to borrow and not understanding why. Still trying to be fly.
But I am more than designer threads, more that patent leather Prada’s, I’m way more hotter, kinda like a Tariq Trotter wit my hat low. The under-rated with an undeniable sick flow.
And even though on a commercial level I may never blow. But for what’s real, jokas know.
That’s why I’m more, because I’m not meant for everybody…and I’m cool with that.
Not looking for your approval or acceptance. I’m just too grown for that.
Because I am more for the eclectic as you have to be slightly touched to get it.