I aim for the jugular every time I write,
I recite my blueprint and watch my words take flight.
I steer into the pool of adversity; nobody is hurting me,
I have a broad scope of unlimited diversity.
Who cares about your literary awards, they’re only accolades,
I only know how to produce facts on the page.
God hasn’t forgotten, you’ve just transgressed beyond all bounds,
I don’t bark like a hound or make sounds, I eat you up so you won’t come around.
Days off don’t exist to me, I grind until I’m exhausted,
I work out hard to get rid of my fatigue; lack of motivation is toxic.
I have bad habits that I’m working on to desecrate,
But my good habits outweight the bad, so I levitate.
Writing is like a mansion by the lake with my vision,
You won’t block my blessings that’s goaltending.
Sunday’s feel like the day of redemption,
I’m so close to the Lord he gives me a time extension.
I’ve been sticking to the simple stanzas to gather more fans;
What I command is a literary demand with the grace of my hands.
The money is rolling in like a slot machine,
I’m going in for the kill, but I always stay serene.
Cold hearted like the roughest snowstorm,
But I have limitless compassion; my heart keeps warm.
I look out for myself and care about others well-being,
Never buy into or believe what you’re seeing.
I watch my enemies and wish them all well,
They want me to fail miserably and burn in hell.
I make Satan powerless, expose his cowardice,
I’m an ageless classic–in control of a literary grind that’s hourless.
I walk amongst the righteous, so humble because I’m the nicest,
I breathe breath into those who are lifeless.
Consistent composure, I stay underground and never go over,
I’m a philosophical genius, whether I’m drunk, high, or sober.