Delivery Flow

*(Verse 1)* Sunrise hits, I'm out the door, on the grind, no cap, Sipping coffee, rush hour grind, the streets get hot. Riding scoot, the thermometer up north, Destination: nowhere, but I keep me hopin' for a drop. Traffic jams are my playground, deadlines are my test, Every turn a challenge, every ride a lesson best. Seen suits in the office, got the whispers and the lies, All that buzzin’ talk, ain’t nothin’ but fake disguises. But when the day is done, and the mic is in my hand, I spill the truth, step in the sand, make it understand. *(Chorus)* From the scooter’s wheel to the stage’s appeal, I ride the line, make the story real. The urban villages keep me fed, a rhythm in my head, The real world’s mess, but my flow’s the lead. *(Verse 2)* Delivered chili sauce to a suit, spilled it on his shoe, He said, "This ain’t right, take it back, too slow!" The elevator choked, the clock was tickin’ low, A high-end party, lost the order, watchin’ time just flow. Late by ten whole minutes, walked in, felt the heat, A guy in a black suit said, "Rider, get this food while you can beat!" I put the box down, took a breath, ain’t no way I’m backseat, Started spinnin’ tales, the mic was my weapon, sharp and straight. Word for word, the silence hit, like a beat gone cold, Then a judge stepped near, gave me a nod, "This ain’t no joke, hold." *(Chorus)* From the scooter’s wheel to the stage’s appeal, I ride the line, make the story real. The urban villages keep me fed, a rhythm in my head, The real world’s mess, but my flow’s the lead. *(Bridge)* The map I sketched, the routes I tracked, Turned into rhymes, a rhythm I packed. From the heat of the night to the cold studio floor, My journey’s far from over, no more. *(Punchline - The Last Four Lines)* So next time I’m deliverin’ pain or makin’ gains, I’ll keep the flow rollin’, no regrets, no strain. The map’s a metaphor, the journey’s the refrain, The grind? It's my anthem, forever in the game.