Three Years Prior
As I grind in to this boy I met just two minutes ago, I start to remember and regret all I've done the last few months. From the parties to the drugs to the illegal business, I never found myself. And I thought this lifestyle was suppose to help me. It has only broken me down even more.
I feel warm tears leak from my eyes outlined in black makeup. I stop dancing and free myself easily from the drunk's hands.
My remembrance of the house is strong, as I waste most my here. I run up to the guest bathroom on the second floor and grab the baby wipes from under the sink. This has got to go, all of it. All the makeup that covers my face is reaplied on the baby wipe and I leave the restroom. The clothes I keep are just down the hall and if I take off this pumps, I can run faster and change without bumping into Berkeley.
My plan goes well until I hear gunshots down the hall and hard boots stomping on the hard, wood floors, in my direction. I shut the door and lock it quickly. I've only got one shot to do this. I pack up all my belongings including the skin tight dress I had on previously, and slide it all under the full sized bed. The foot steps are getting louder. I change my idea to hide it out, and pull on my converse. This escape will be easy in my sweatpants and hoodie. I grab my duffle bag once again and stuff about three thousand in and run towards the window.
The Boots scuffles the door as it tries to knock it down. I know those boots and I don't want to remember them ever again, even if I know I'll never forget. Throwing my bag and myself on roof to the first floor, I slam the window behind me, making sure it locks. I run around the perimeter until I see the front porch. Making sure nobody is there, waiting for me, I jump on the top step, then down the other twenty to the street.
I pull my hoodie down and yank out my IPod and headphones, trying to look less suspicious. My favorite Eminem song is on and I couldn't be happier with the electronic's selection.
Look, if you had one shot, or one opportunity
To seize everything you ever wanted. one moment
Would you capture it or just let it slip?
Yo
His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy
There's vomit on his sweater already, mom's spaghetti
He's nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready to drop bombs,
But he keeps on forgetting what he wrote down,
The whole crowd goes so loud
He opens his mouth, but the words won't come out
He's choking how, everybody's joking now
The clock's run out, time's up, over, bloah!
Snap back to reality, Oh there goes gravity
Oh, there goes Rabbit, he choked
He's so mad, but he won't give up that
Easy, no
He won't have it, he knows his whole back's to these ropes
It don't matter, he's dope
He knows that but he's broke
He's so stagnant, he knows
When he goes back to his mobile home, that's when it's
Back to the lab again, yo
This whole rhapsody
He better go capture this moment and hope it don't pass him
[Hook:]
You better lose yourself in the music, the moment
You own it, you better never let it go
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime yo
You better lose yourself in the music, the moment
You own it, you better never let it go
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime yo
(You better)
The soul's escaping, through this hole that is gaping
This world is mine for the taking
Make me king, as we move toward a new world order
A normal life is boring, but superstardom's close to post mortem
It only grows harder, homie grows hotter
He blows. It's all over. These hoes is all on him
Coast to coast shows, he's known as the globetrotter
Lonely roads, God only knows
He's grown farther from home, he's no father
He goes home and barely knows his own daughter
But hold your nose 'cause here goes the cold water
His hoes don't want him no more, he's cold product
They moved on to the next schmoe who flows
He nose dove and sold nada
So the soap opera is told and unfolds
I suppose it's old partner but the beat goes on
Da da dum da dum da da
[Hook]
No more games, I'ma change what you call rage
Tear this motherfucking roof off like two dogs caged
I was playing in the beginning, the mood-
Before I know what's happening, my brother is at my throat again. He yanks my headphones out and now asking me where I've been and how I've been doing. We've only got one another and I sicken myself to think I left him hanging. But then again, he did it once too. Maybe this makes us even? It does.
We don't really talk to each other except to ask and answer questions. I'm welcomed back home and he isn't making me pay rent this time. What was he even thinking last time? I had just turned fifteen, why would I have money then?
When we say our goodbyes and goodnights, I head to my room. It is perfectly untouched and cold. My posters are still in one piece and I'm grateful for that, I would die without them. I have categorized them by genre of music: R&B, Rap, Punk-Rock, Indie, and Pop. All of them have a separate wall. (Yes, I have five walls.)
The paint in my room is black, as it covers my walls and my furniture except for my white lamp. My bed spread is also white, like my roof and doors and Window frame. The floor is a dark, brown wood that is always chilled. All my old group of people used to say it was a boy's room. I said it was a dreamer's room.
I adore the chill, why did I leave? Was I sick in the head? Or was it the faux love I felt for drugs and Levy that made me leave? Yes, yes it was. Never will I love again. Never will I put my or anyone else's life on the line again.
I owe it to myself to never live the Thug Life again. I'm over it, I'm just scared it isn't over me.
