Struggle

Got my self esteem back, got my confidence up
Time to step up to the stage, perform and strut
And walk around with my pants hanging over my butt
Nobody can tell me nothing, so get off my nuts
Get ready 'cause the bald eagle has landed
I'm back in your hair, sorry for leaving you stranded
Back in the booth of the studio, evil and rancid
I've got haters who be hating, they don't understand it
From the stove in the kitchen, to cooking up rhymes
Flipping the eggs in the pan in past, to flipping the lines
They spat in my face and told me that I couldn't make it
Released two mixtapes and an album, they couldn't take it
I remember when I was walking a tight rope, without a circus net
Sniffing Cocaine and popping Percocets, I was a nervous wreck
Just wanted to collapse and take a shell into my chest, hit the deck
My daughter was on her last feed and her last diaper
And there I was getting high off pain killers like the Pied Piper
I deserved respect, but was working a sweat for a worthless check
Needed to turn things around and fucking destory this debt
Minimum wage had my adrenaline caged, full of venom and rage
Everynight in the studio writing a rap and tearing up every page
It seemed as though my life wasn't destining to rap on the stage

Funny how things can turn out