Real Truth

"I'm not conceited," I tell them.
"There's always room for improvement" I say.
or "I still have a lot to learn" (love that one).
all of which are the truth.
to a certain extent.

The real truth is that I walk around this campus with a chip on my shoulder,
pride running through my veins.
I sit in class and see maybe two or three of my real peers.
The rest aren't here for the glory,
they're here to play games.

Because at the end of the semester,
I'll be walking away
with that A
and the rest,
well who knows.

I don't, and I don't particularly care.

The real truth is that I probably am full of myself,
even though I won't admit it,
I probably am an asshole
even though I hate being called it.

You can think of me what you want
but after it all,
I'm going to be enshrined in victory
and you're going to wallow in defeat.

Maybe not this game of beer pong,
you could get the better of me in a game or two.
You might get a better grade than I on that test,
after all I've got a lot to deal with this year.
but we'll just see who's standing on that podium
after its all said and done,
we'll see who's name is in that magazine.

Because the real truth is
I have the confidence to succeed,
the tenacity to strike gold,
and the heart to overcome any obstacle.

So talk all you want
about blunts and beers,
cigs and sluts.
Because while ya'll are talkin,
I'm fillin criteria or sealin my tagline.
I'm sweatin bullets in the gym
and makin it look easy.

Partying is all that consumes you,
and you're friends mean more to you than your future.

The real truth is:
childsplay is for the meek,
and all I see are toys.