Let's Give Them Something to Talk About🤷🏾‍♂️

One thing that never fails is that my name is in someones' mouth, and my success and potential stay on their hearts. The fake and phony require pacemakers to make it through the night because my star shines bright like a diamond, while theirs has the luster of graphite. I have to pick up my pen AGAIN to address the latest episode of "I Love What you Have, but I Hate That you Have It. I have been called and accused of everything by the peanutless gallery. They sit and wait until nobody is looking to throw the rotten fruit that hangs from their pathetic trees. Full of hate, shade, and rage, but they never let me hear them. My only option is listening to what the not-so-bold, apparently cracked out, and no longer beautiful have to say about me via a third party. 

Here I am perplexed that I never get to face my accusers. The Lord knows I like a good fight, but I have grown, and I know how to keep my hands to myself, but my words, that is a different story. These words cut like Ginzu knives, filleting any coward that stands in my way. I am up today, and I am ready to play. You had your turn, and now I am about to tell you a sad story, your story. First, let us start with why I cannot see or hear you. That is right; you fools are hiding. You guys like to throw rocks and hide your hands as if we do not know who threw that weak shit. You did not even break a window when you threw.

You all stay cooped up in tiny houses and basements with the blinds shut. You guys take turns being victims, whining and crying as if the world owes you all something. If it were not for so and so, you would have achieved XYZ. You all lie to each other, claiming it is the world that got it wrong, and you all have it right. You all are supposed to be great but do not want to share the facts that refute those claims. Everything you guys have you got from going behind someone's back or laying on your backs. 

At 32, I have a story and a legacy. When I speak, people listen, and when they say they did not hear me, they heard me, and I know you guys heard me. My words have you pressed, scrambling trying to discredit me, but no one except a hater entertains those lies. I can go anywhere and stand in front of anyone and speak my mind. I do not have to play telephone, and if I do, I never call anonymously. When I swing, even if I miss, you will know it was me who did the swinging, and you better duck because, like a boomerang, it is coming back around. You cowards have such strong convictions in private about me but act like church mouses in public. Typical roaches, you all congregate in the dark and scatter at first sight of light. 

The line has been drawn in the sand. In other words, you all can kiss my ass, and I am off crutches now, still waiting for the unchosen one to follow through on the threats to kick my ass. I am not playing with you pitiful misfits anymore. In the future, you will know I do not like you, and you will know I do not fool with you. You all can keep saying my name, and that is okay; Charles is notarized. I am official, authentic, the real McCoy. You clowns are decoys, constantly forgetting which lie you just told to go with the lie from before. Any comparisons you make to me are blasphemous. Run my record. Run my credit. I have nothing to hide. There are no restrictions on where I can go or any exclusions regarding the age groups I can be around 🐸🍵. My income did not stop in December 2021 when the government said alright enough.

Keep bringing me up, and remember, I can counter each lie about me with a fact about you. Hell, word on the street, a few people in the crew looking like it is a hard-knock life and quiet as it is kept, the band keeps growing. I look ready for a night out, and more and more you all look like you are crossing the border. None of you are a match for me. As long as you care what people think and I do not give a damn, my arsenal will always outlast yours. I know sooooooooooooo much about you guys; you all have no idea. I know more about you than you "think" you know about me. I stay abreast because I am used to dealing with dumb muthafuckas but dumb muthafuckas are not used to dealing with me.

You are all too worried about appearances. I make appearances whenever and wherever I want. I do not need anyone to prop me up, hold my hand and fill me with liquid courage. I do not need a "we shall overcome" speech to start my day. I woke up like this, and I will sleep like this. Now, after over a decade, I have finally said something. Now is the appropriate time for you to have something to say about me. 

However, beware; this truthteller can last 12 rounds, and all the junk you think you can speak to "hurt" me has nothing to do with me. My hands are clean 👏🏾. You may have heard something, but you have not witnessed anything. And before you come for me trying to spill my beans, know that we can take it back to the '80s and start a comprehensive discussion about timelines and how we got to today. Word on the curb, the chastity belts were off. Sex, drugs, and rock & roll🤟🏾. Parting words, sweep around your own front door, do not try to sweep around mine.