My Fantasy Drug
By Alaina Blay
Whenever I make a rhyme I get an adrenaline rush
Writing poems is my outlet, it’s like my fantasy drug
A high comes over me who knew it was this fun
Never will I be done since the day I have begun
I love it, in a few words I can get the beat flowing
With true stories of my life and all about how I’ve been growing
Nothing fake here, no false advertising
For a million bucks, I will bet you I’m not lying
Everything I say is real, nothing fabricated
Nothing ear-wrenching, nothing complicated
What happened to the rhymes that actually had meaning
The ones that inspired and kept the youth believing
The message I am sending I hope you are receiving
‘Cause there are others out here two-timing and deceiving
I wanna bring the real authentic shit back
‘Cause I’m sick of drugs, cars, & hoes, all of that shit’s wack
Sick of hearing good beats wasted with words that make me cringe
Music without meaning is like a door without a hinge
Talking about real shit, what happened to that?
When’s the last time a woman hit home on first bat?
Spread the word, watch your back, you don’t have to deal with their crap
Watch who you trust so you don’t fall into their trap
Making beats with my lines so that people can relate
They have to hear what I gotta say so they can all finally see straight
Brainwashed by society, all the regulars take in the bait
Wishing for success, but all they ever do is wait
Everyday complaining that their lives ain’t great
But I’m here to tell you, you decide your own fate!
© Alaina Blay 2013
Photo Info:
Albany, NY, 2010
