Good Morning.

Wake up, Mr. Magouirk, Mr. Magouirk, Mr. Fresh, Mr. by-his-self-he-so-impressed. I mean, damn, did you even see the test? You got D's, motherfucker D's! Like Rosie Perez and yes, barely passed any and every class, looking at every ass, cheated on every test. I guess this is my dissertation. Listen, this shit is basic. Welcome to my graduation. Good morning. On this day I become legendary. Everything I dreamed of. I'm like the fly Malcolm X. Buy any jeans necessary. Detroit wear-cleaned up. From the streets of the league. From an eighth to a key but you graduate when you make it up out of the streets. From the moments of pain, look how far I done came. Haters saying I changed. Now I'm doing my thing. Good morning. Look at the valedictorian, scared of the future, while I hop in the Delorean. Scared-to-face-the-world, complacent, career student. Some people graduate, but be still stupid. They tell you to read this, eat this, don't look around, just peep this, preach us, teach us Jesus. Okay, look up now, they done stole your street-ness. After all of that, you receive this. Good Morning.

Love,
S



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