Still Gonna Shine

Woke up late, burnt toast, cold shower,

Boss on my line like “you got one hour.”

Flat tire on the ride, Uber smells like curry,

Driver’s talkin’ ‘bout aliens and government fury.

Spilled coffee on my only clean shirt,

Stepped in gum, now my Air Max hurt.

ATM’s down, and I’m low on change,

But I’m still walkin’ tall like life ain’t strange.

Got a crack in my screen, dreams in the queue,

Rent’s late again, but my soul brand new.

I laugh at the struggle, it ain’t nothin’ new,

‘Cause pressure makes stories — and I’ve got a few.

⸻

Still gonna shine when the sky turn gray,

Even when the world tryna ruin my day.

You can throw a wrench, I’ma dance in the sparks,

I got light in my chest and love in my heart.

Still gonna smile with a broke-ass phone,

Still spit gold in a traffic cone tone.

Life throw punches, I bob, weave, glide—

Can’t kill my vibe, I’m too alive.

⸻

Got cussed out by a toddler in a Spidey mask,

He said, “Your fit trash,” I ain’t even ask.

Then a pigeon hit my windshield mid-swerve,

It flipped me the bird—yo, that takes nerve.

Bank app froze, so I’m payin’ in nickels,

Teller gave a smirk like my stress was ticklish.

Leftovers stolen by my roommate Dave,

Left a ransom note: “It was delicious. Behave.”

But I’m cool with the madness, joy in the circus,

I juggle misfortune like I know my purpose.

Spittin’ curses? Nah, I turn ’em to verses,

Polish pain ‘til it glows — now it’s perfect.

⸻

Still gonna shine when the sky turn gray,

Even when the world tryna ruin my day.

You can throw a wrench, I’ma dance in the sparks,

I got light in my chest and love in my heart.

Still gonna smile with a broke-ass phone,

Still spit gold in a traffic cone tone.

Life throw punches, I bob, weave, glide—

Can’t kill my vibe, I’m too alive.

⸻

Yeah, it’s one of those weeks.

Even Siri won’t talk to me.

Car won’t start unless I slap the dash,

And my fridge light flickers like it’s tryin’ to flash.

But look—

Rock bottom’s got great acoustics,

And bad luck makes the best music.

⸻

I’ve walked through the muck in untied shoes,

Faked fine smiles just to shake bad news.

But I flipped that script, now I write my scene,

Turn breakdowns into gasoline.

Make wins outta L’s like I’m spellin’ ‘well,’

Even when life’s a high-speed carousel.

Round and round, through the noise and grime,

Still showin’ up like I’m in my prime.

So when chaos knocks, I throw a parade,

March to my own drum, unafraid.

A little broke, yeah — but never broken,

Turn the mess to a message, loud and open.

⸻

Still gonna shine when the sky turn gray,

Even when the world tryna ruin my day.

You can throw a wrench, I’ma dance in the sparks,

I got light in my chest and love in my heart.

Still gonna smile with a broke-ass phone,

Still spit gold in a traffic cone tone.

Life throw punches, I bob, weave, glide—

Can’t kill my vibe, I’m too alive.

⸻

So next time life serves that cha