Tick-tock, my wrist don’t watch, it demands
Minutes drip, I flip 'em like contraband
Put-in time, not Putin’s plans,
A czar of the grind, not a puppet man.
Cogs in my brain, gears grind like steel
Rust never sleeps, my hustle's real
Chasing bread, they say’s outta my meal
But I’m carving my name in this spinning wheel.
Clockwork hustle, no time for love
Hands spinning fast, dreams above
Pen spills truth, not diamonds or doves
Clockwork hustle, that's what I’m made of.
Ink bleeds on the page, my veins on the stage
Spilling thoughts while they lock me in a cage
Said the dream’s too far, I can’t engage
But I’m stretching this rubber band past its age.
No time for Cupid, his arrows dull
My heart beats the tempo, pockets full
While they Netflix, I’m grinding till the skull
Buried six feet under, but I pulled the wool.
Tick-tock, Kremlin watch, hands move cold
Putin time, not in suits, but in truths I sold
Grinding for the throne, Midwest dirt on my sole
Pen spills rivers, my ink floods scrolls
They call me Midwest menace, spine like steel
Hustlin' time, flipping minutes into meals
Dreams outta reach? I ladder up with zeal
While they fold like cards, I’m the dealer, no deal
Clock's spinning, I'm grinning, no time for love
Ink drips, heart skips, I rise above
Chasing dreams, they scream, "You outta touch"
But I'm clockin', rockin', can't stop this rush
KGB whispers, but I ain't phased
Midwest grit, born and raised in a maze
Time on the clock, my hands carve blades
Cut through the fog, I’m the beast they praise
Love waits in line, but my grind won’t pause
Chasing a dream that defies all laws
Pen bleeds truth, my ink’s a lost cause
But I’m bound to my hustle, no applause
Tick-tick, heartbeats lost in the grind
Wristwatch spinning, can't rewind
Time's a tyrant, love’s left behind
But this paper chase is my only shrine
Don’t clock me, clock my grind
Midwest winds cut sharper than time
They call me a dreamer, outta my mind
But the ink I spill makes the stars align.
Poet419
