Baggage Lyrics

I got a lot of baggage cause I've been trippin'

Steady stacking up frequent flyer trials thanks to the frequency of my sinning

Turbulent the way I kept it spinning

See my struggle seems like it's always been women

Now this phenomenon, it probably dates back to the beginning

Probably has more to do with me, my childhood trauma, lack of impulse control and discipline than it ever had to Do with women

Probably since selfishness and immaturity made its way through TSA with a fake ID that said Pimpin'

Oddly, though many things were out of my control, I can't posit myself the victim

Filling up my passport, they were just places I liked visiting

Not people worthy of respect

That was a foreign sentiment and I couldn't get a visa

Something I would later come to regret like Bitcoin or influencers at the Fyre Fest sleeping in FEMA tents

Likewise, my groin was the tool guide that never got me anywhere but vexed

Yet I kept going

But it wasn't just sex

It was something about control, a lack of awareness and intimacy

Like a bunch of apartments, it was complex

Something about how I was socialized to take advantage and not care

Void of regrets

Something about boasting but being blind to the spiritual warfare behind what we see as threats

And lastly, there was something about my worth that left me with a wild desire to flex

Clearly, conquering my consorts was key

External influences and my ego had me thinking I was a player instead of a ho

Promiscuity was the subtext

It was all about that ism, mouthpiece of game, like who's next

But you know, the stats were still the same and the championship ring was still custom-coated with shame

I had to retire before I could grow

Basically, find a new lane

It was unfortunate though that I had to wait for my whole life to implode before I learned how to let go, let God And begin my healing journey

It was delayed and it showed

The overhead storage was full and though when it came to packing, I fancied myself a pro, I still had to check what I was trying to carry on or wouldn't be allowed to go

So I complied, sat back to enjoy the ride

Reflecting on all the sweet things my exes did for me, I wonder how many good relationships I've sacrificed at the Altar of my pride

To later be remembered for my infamy or simply criticized all the time, because I definitely made a couple of them Cry

Honestly, I might just be known for my harsh tone and irritability

The finger on the triggers are just part of the reason for that therapy

It figures

How many had to endure my mess while I refused to look inside

Far too many, I suggest

I was far too wasteful to have been that blessed, far too combative when overwhelmed or stressed

Loving me was like waiting on a table with 15 guests at the end of a shift, all requesting separate checks

Exhausting, I guess

Either way, my fall turned out for the best and perhaps now instead of my wounds, wholeness is all my partner gets