World is mine

The world is mine, it's been so since I opened up something similar to a wise school in ink letterings Printed out raps after I realized how fortunate I was I slept in class and by-passed Ghandi's phrases about the world bettering Cause this world is only a rotten apple if you become a worm But if you're just a germ you could either cleanse or earn the paper to burn in offices that get you closer to where the Earth was formed The center of the universe, where the sick climb out of their hearse, Where the good-hearted surveilled the recently imbursed I've always felt like a human, even since before my first verse Since I wrote my first rap at 11 'So.Flo.Pro' free hand and self mojo But then I felt more like a vessel susceptible to trouble when I fell for the softness on a self-centered beauties' petals ... I was twelve then, I knew back then I was destined for a cell or pen away from the sex hell that my Mom and Dad cried in and yelled... It was the best house in the world although for all that tension I fell Now I find myself thinking what if I was just their favorite beautiful book picked from a shelf Born to deliver stories amongst many who vow to get out of the house more & resolve the grouchy scores