Nito's Creed

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Nerd Lady

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They say we're a combination
Of the souls that raised us
Think back as a kid, tell me who you was
Memories of my momma on that Metro Bus
Every choice I ever made, why don't we discuss
Photos of my granny, last time I felt safe
The West Oaks Apartments out in Alief
Somewhere by the rainbow
Lays a pot of true knowledge
If you skip straight ahead, you find your true calling
This may be offensive, I may lose a few homies
Some can't handle the rhythm, they walk away slowly
I'm ready for the backlash: tongue lashings and such
I can only be myself and even that I can't trust
But my story is my truth - whether you like it or not
Never one to change perspective, you get what I got
All we ever had was pennies, throwing 2 cents your way
When I tell you that I'm hurting
It's cuz poetry is pain
My heart on my sleeve and a sparkle in my eye
Gotta empty out these rhymes, before the day I die
It's a race against time, uncertainty, and fate
Switching out the converse when I get to Heaven's gate
I'm protecting my peace, no matter the cost
No time to reminisce on the joy that I've lost
Hell, I made it this far, mostly on my own
Still in awe at the fact that I'm 22 years old
Bout to turn 23 - on the date I release
This tape ain't for you, I made it mostly for me
But if you grab a few jewels, I promise it's fine
Preserve these rhymes in your heart
Through the perils of time
I didn't write a damn hook, no ad-libs, or effects
I just say what I say and I pray that it sticks
Hands out like a crack fiend, itching for a fix
Dropped a Ben at the studio just to get this shit mixed
Now Bred is prolly thinking, lil bitch you ain't slick
But he's front of the line if I hit a fat lick
Cuz if you stream this shit, imma just make more
Idolizing Hip-Hop like Sara Anderson and Thor
That's an old ass reference from a childhood gem
I'm talking Playboy mag - Chris Parker and them
I'm talking Choco-Bananas, and Caldo de Rez
Digging through a haystack for these happy moments
Hands bloodied up when the needle emerges
A subtle reminder of some juvenile urges
Cuz I won't cut myself, but I will cut you off
I keep God in my corner when enough is enough
I'll leave you in his hands, my mortal time is too precious
The clock is tick-toking and I'm feeling the pressure
Drop some wicked ass reference, just for good measure
Brain leaks like Budd Dwyer - cuz Poetry is pleasure
When I step into this booth, it's like a therapy session
Spill my darkest thoughts and it doubles as confession
Now isn't that ironic - for non-denomination
I could tie it all together but you gotta be patient
Not one to ever focus, I be getting off track
I'd still pay for this house and my buy daddy a truck
I'm finna leave instructions for the babies after me
Straight out of Houston, Texas - I present Nito's Creed

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