I used to rhyme back in the day. When angry, I’d retreat to a corner and write – stab my pad till my pen bleeds (sorry, didn’t mean to be graphic). Someone told me last week, “I don’t know anyone who carries a pen and pad in their hand bag”. I don’t; at least not all the time but I don’t see anything wrong with it either. Writing is my stress reliever. I call it therapy. I also write when I’m bored, or sad, or when I find inspiration. I’m not sure if I write when I’m happy but I know I get happy when I’m write. Especially when I used to battle on the african hiphop portal. Can you imagine? I used to spit words of fire (hehe). I even got nominated for an award; best female…and won, if I remember correctly. Well, I felt a surge of rhythm and decided to put something down….its more like spoken words; hopefully you’d be able to read it and get my sense of delivery.
I love; no I like your money. Forgive me if I go against the norm or should I say my norm as the norm at the present applauds my honesty – my love; no like-of-money-honesty. Or am I wrong to like your money…’cause I recall correctly that you like your money too. As a matter of fact I remember you telling me you can’t do without your car…no cars and clothes and jewelry and gadgets. My dear, I can’t do without you too – well, without your money. ‘Cause I too enjoy your luxuries as they trickle down to me and I love; no like your company because you spend around me. And if it goes away…honey I can’t guarantee that I’d stay. Cause it’s give and take you see…you give and I take and going against this order will change the course of humanity- my sustenance; the price you pay for maintaining me. Lets just call it my maintenance fee. So let’s say I’m doing you a favor by loving; no liking your money. Think of me as the poor child that you sponsor – I bet you I’d make a good character in your personal statement to the leagues. I bet they’d write you ballads as one who gives truly and freely and this will be our little secret. ‘Cause we both know why you keep me around, cause no one can stand to have you around – you stench of pride and ooze of ingratitude, utmost stupidity and ignorance – O! the blatant poignant ignorance!
Let’s retract for a second: I like; no I LOVE your money. Forgive me if this is the norm I have chosen to embrace; but without your money, I wouldn’t even know your face.