One Pen

I’m about to retrieve worldwide luxuries

Scotian Breeze is the movement; there ain’t no one touching me

I push out so many words I get readers sick

The content is endless, the substance is thick

The foundation started with one-hundred dollars and a dream

Literary success has been embedded in the seams of my genes

I run my own company; it has specific parameters

The measurements of greatness don’t require diameters

Treasure Words, Collect Figures is my way of living

A affable dynasty that keeps on giving

I bought the palace first, then bought out the office

I’m speaking about my assured future like a prophet

The unexpected is what I give the world daily

I was born to be dead rich; wasn’t remaining scaly

The disdain in demons brains is a shame

They are lames, who complain to entertain

Worried about what the next man has been doing

I take care of business–it’s my enemies who I’m subduing

Sleeping very little, writing philosophical riddles

The crown is what I’m taking, there’s no room in the middle

Exercising my rights, extending my height

Towering over you because I spread the light

The nicer I become, the more I adapt

I remember walking in a blizzard, thinking I was trapped

I haven’t written one lie or used the masquerade of another guy

To be honest: I’m too fly, listening to the facts from the most-high

I had my best friend say goodbye

Two bullets in his head was the only thing that made me cry

Since then: I haven’t shed a tear and haven’t had fears

Things aren’t what they appear, it’s Allah I revere

Let me end the poem with this imperative, indispensable, message

Death is a door we all enter, so don’t stress it

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