Sometimes we stand in our own way of progress and we usually know then
Mostly during tight situations when we really really fail to own them
Our analytic alter egos rear their ugly heads till thoughts begin to disperse
I've often told my people about it being a blessing and a curse
Sometimes, it takes me two weeks... two goddamn weeks to write a verse
I think I'm somehow a perfectionist, or maybe I just like to tinker with words
Backed against a wall, I rebound with creative juices in copious amounts
Your boy ends up oozing mad dopamine in ways that astound
Otherwise, we find ourselves weighing all the possible options
The consequence is often so paralytic that we refuse to function
It ain't like I'm lazy, it ain't like I don't understand the process
It's mostly the convos amongst the numerous voices in my head, I guess
But I'm blessed because I do know how to step out and ask for help
Truth is: it ain't no fun trying to handle everything by oneself
When my views get adventurous, my mastermind makes them rational
Break it down, and they suggest actionable ideas that are quite practical
Now mine ain't free, it ain't cheap but I absolutely see no liability
Since my guys are always ready to kick my ass, I've got mad accountability
So, one takeaway is this - when life gets crazy, just reach out and ask for help
Sometimes we just can't handle being adults all by ourselves.
