I wrote this for a young lady who couldn't find the words to describe how she felt and what she was going through, she was depressed and always wanted to be skinny though there was nothing ever really wrong with her weight, she just wasn't satisfied. She went from 185 down to 150. Congrats beautiful. Keep it up. Here you go.
It's more of a rap than a poem so spit it how you want. Kick it.
I was looking back on some school flix, thought, “Damn, my body used to be so sick.”
Six pack and all, with the lower body just right, pissed off cause now my jeans too damn tight.
Can’t fit my medium shirts or my name brand sweaters, gotta hit that track, God knows I better.
Two pounds lost in four days of workin, noticed the girls up the street even stop flirtin.
Sad face hangin low, feet just draggin, I need to get back in shape before my breast start saggin.
No motivation, not even a bit, mamas mad someone ate her ice cream, she bout to have a fit.
Lookin around my room, tryna hide the bowl, actin like all I had was a cinnamon roll.
11pm and I’m workin out, thinking why don’t I just give up now.
Then a picture of my body runs through my mind, about how I used to look back in 2005.
I start to cry, feeling fat and ugly, but my girlfriend thinks I’m hot and puts no one above me.
I start to smile, still feeling bad, so I run and walk a mile, damn I should be glad.
Two months later, I’m in better shape, not pressing rewind on some old work out tapes.
I did it on my own and I’m self motivated. Don’t put me on a pedestal I’m self elevated.
Summer time is here and I’m rockin a bikini, I did it last year but this time everybody sees me.
I get the winks and the smiles for being so fly, you couldn’t pay a chick to talk to me with my flabby thighs.
But who are they to even pass me up? I can have just about any girl I want.
If you’re fat you gotta have money just to get some play.
I worked at Carls Jr. 12 hours a day.
That was part of the reason why I was feeling sad, now I look in the mirror I’m not only proud, but I’m bad.
I kick the bad habits and I keep on pushin, six pack on deck no longer a whoopee cushion.
My girl is happy for me and so am I, keep my head up and let the haters walk by.
