METAMORPHOSeS

As I ponder metaphysics in Ms. Chen's physics class My high school experience like my youth will not last I'll be cast upon reality, who I am? A technicality Against brutality, gaining a salary, and those who battle me I won't cower; I tower above Fenway Park I radiate sun beams even as it's getting dark Under any circumstance I'll graduate with my amassed friends This thought is concrete in my mind even when the class ends Even when the class ends, we ain't around the last bend Never sinking back when my thinking cap is fastened Later now I'm back as a teacher in the classroom Who'd a known back then that helping youth is my passion? How does a rhyme from 1999 Metamorphose into something so beyond its design? Just know that every seed given sunshine Despite some decline, will bloom in due time I started fresh on F St. man Smoking Ls on 22nd Now Larry Bird and Q Living out a year sentence Count my blessings That when I blast out of DC Diploma's on the dash Full gas so I can be free My homeboy, P, he says that college has been easy The reason be, P? I never let them reach me Yea right they teach me, each PhD But for that degree, we're moving keys, man this ish ain't free Well the price to change my luck I could never afford But Geico saved a buck or two for my Accord The plates are unlisted, no license but I risk it Kid, I can't wait to go full throttle out the District What? My whip's impounded and I'm broke So I start flipping pizzas with my man P, he's moving dough He smiles and says, I can't believe we're done with school Next day, his body's found in the Reflecting Pool How does a rhyme from 2000 and four Metamorphose into something even drowning endures? Just know that not every young caterpillar Will live to spread its wings but still it may shimmer I say hold up, pana, cuz I got some ish to roll up That skunk-funk cripi, my rhymes, with rum and cola Hot thoughts on my mind cuando ella baila sola And twisted baselines that might me stumble when I'm sober Acho mano, my soldiers at the front door They say, en tu carro, but there's only room for four But they say the ride's a hooptie, do you care who you see Or who sees you? So we pack three in two seats Tearing up the twelve pack in the back like loose-leaf Ross behind the wheel, I'm riding shotgun calling cuties En el Baldorioty, yea you know the routine Try as I might recall that night, the details still elude me How does a rhyme from deep inebriation Metamorphose into something that provides education? Just know that every raw yucca root is poisonous We learn from the past to prevent it from destroying us