Dreaming about this silly dream,

selling copies worth of million,

filled with verses inside

where words are killing emotions.

Hurdles and hills

will never make me speechless,

life spills me bills,

untill I breathe I kill obstacles,

I will survive all flip-flops.

Nil is just a number, I need six,

mixed feelings fill me deeply,

benjamins are secondary

but my vision is blurry

while trying to sell copies

having close to zero pennies.

No chill, still struggle,

sold souls and empty feelings,

to false reality I’ve lost this battle.

Ambition is priceless

but little vision makes it useless.

Probably I’m mentally ill,

most definitely actually,

it’s not healthy dreaming big,

I don’t need wealthy lifestyle

but economic freedom is for me.

This ill will makes me succeed,

I lack of things, at least not will,

mil is behind the door,

I’m a burgular if neccessary,

locks for animals,

I’m amongst homo sapiens,

killer instinct makes me special,

my name supposed to be bold,

keep close if you looking for gold.

I swallow the pill to be able

to kill evil inside the demon,

blue one for illusion,

ignorance is blissful, I’m twisted,

red pill for me, I can’t resist it,

I need this painful truth of reality

that God cursed me to see.

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