they said beauty is in the eye of the beholder
so I spend time kissing the mirror
put on some drapes and fancy
and tell maself I'm pimped and fly
a couple shots and memories clocked
abs taut, guns flexed, enamels bleached
proceeding to
sleek poses, best angles, lip glosses
poised, I proved a point
yea, I know im sweet
no matter what you or the stupid mirror think
why do you think the folks trip?
why do you think haters game?
how about coaches bowing
and them sisters hollering
aint it because im sculpt
chiseled in every right place
Im like what wiggas fantasize
I breeze by and them shortyz be waggling
the way im cut you gotta be guessin
Im made to make you mavering
you got the goods yet, I make you goofing
tell me im fly cos i make you dry out
sing the praises for he made me brazen
show the respect, i earned it hussling
see i know the limit to 'washing'
the fine line between bragging and bitting
the alley that seperates fame and faking
travelling the freeway to success i'm taking
slowing down, I appreciate encomiums and scorfing
rising up, I tell of raises and raisins
attempt to rhyme about how hot im cooked
looking at the mirror, im reminded im the flyest...
...to be continued...
Ub M.(c)
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