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.