Mapped Out

Everyone wants to be rich, but won’t put in the work

Sixty-eighty hour work weeks are what most won’t exert

Chasing dreams doesn’t come without struggle

When the success hits, speak with a muzzle

I know what it’s like being dead broke

Life is like a joke with no hope

But I remain positive in the roughest times

Some moments were sweet, the others bitter like limes

Writing novels that have realistic characters and situations

I flourish solely off my purification and innovation

I sold a few books starting off, before I went professional

The prose, plot, setting, book cover, and editing is exceptional

Joy is only snatched from the mind that weakens

I make sure every second my thoughts deepen

Literary prowess placed me in a palace overlooking the ocean

I have a God view of the city like a true Scotian

I always knew I was going to make it writing books

The False Reality Of Martin had the cake took

Ladies Prism expanded the movement, and made me stronger

The only thing that changed is my money become longer

I was told selling books is a hard gig

People who believe in demons; they aren’t big

A lot of haters praying on my downfall like the devil

Angry individuals, upset that I’m on another level

There’s no need to look for God; he’s always around

The thunder and rain is his sound

I knew I had the tenacity inside my soul

I eat all of my meals out of the same bowl

Revenue streams are opening up consistently

Representing the words I’ve written officially

Freelance writing skyrocketed my career off the pavement

The stars are under me; what a smooth arrangement

 

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