High school lunch beating hard on the desk, or beat bopping make the bass from my fist on my chest
I was just a young girl with no style or finesse, Tomboy playing sports never caught in a dress
Basketball with a ll the neighborhood boys was the best, I was lost tryna find a way to earn my respect
Graduated went to college introduced me to sex, started smoking black and milds
Something I truly regret
Dropped out, dropped out and lost my focus to quick
So I started different hustles with the wrong type of click
I was in and out of jail thinking life is a bitch
Started hitting open mics I'm getting good at this shit
Started rapping as a hobby making beats was for fun
Start comparing me to Missy but the streets was my drug
Tried to join a couple labels shit was bringing me down
My name started popping heavy people feeling my sound
Started taking music serious in 2010, pops just passes away I fell in love with the pen
Started righting down my life let the story begin, aye, now let the story begin
Use to be that weak chic on the block that everybody overlooked, lost child without a voice
Somehow nobody understood, adolescent mind praying for a way up out the hood
But her time came, now she spittin got em hooked, took some work I had to make some sacrifices
Time is of the essence of second she was fighting, motivated daily every minute she was writing
Lost her parents at an early age so she was crying, praying for them better days but God was not replying
Never stopped pushing always working always grinding, took a lot of years but the sun started shining
People started listening she finally found the discipline, the balls in her hands cross over she dribbling
Everything can change no matter what the condition is, life not picture perfect we reminded by the images
At your doors like a couple Jehovah witnesses, practice bars like coaches giving out scrimmages
It took discipline, owned a couple business, work the beat out be gassing on these intruments
The grind is real an over comer dreams are limitless