Some might say this some might say that but Im stuck in the grip of a titans hand what right does a man have to make a demand. I’m Less worried bout flying than where I land. I’m peanut butter and God is my jam, now I’m back on track from all the game I ran, standing in the winning circle so I raise my hands, now my life’s a breeze like a table fan. Now I’m more than able to come an save you fam, I see pearls in people you just seen a clam. On the sand being carried by the sun of man, feel the heat while I’m staring with no gun in hand,im shooting for the stars so that’s where I dance, cause I said to many prayers to get one more chance, but by his grace I’ve been saved so I must advance, I guess my mustard seed has to become a plant, I’m trying to grow but getting old cause life’s to fast. trying to fight my past but will I everlast,i been in survival mode doing all I can. Slipping off the narrow road trying find the path, to a road that’s made of gold where I will not crash, and as I write this poem Lord please guide my hands, you guide my footsteps as I sit here make these plans, so instead of over think,I just understand. God gets the glory not me or any other man, childlike faith I’ll write these words in crayon, there’s major situations in these other lands. But that’s minor to us so slide of with your bands, just remember the king in every circumstance. And acknowledge him first soon as you lift your head,