The Story Behind the Song
Beyond the Ceiling
“They tell me the sky is the limit, man, that’s bogus.”
That opening line came to me fully formed one night when someone was explaining to me—again—why something I wanted to do wasn’t realistic. Why I should stay in my lane. Set more achievable goals.
And I thought: “You’re drawing lines where you stopped. Not where I stop.”
“Watch Me Soar” is for everyone who’s been told to dream smaller. Stay grounded. Be realistic. Keep expectations manageable.
Nah. I’m building a spacecraft.
The Space Mission Metaphor
The entire song became a launch sequence. Not because space is trendy—because it’s the perfect metaphor for breaking through artificial limits.
“They tell me the sky is the limit, man, that’s bogus / None of these prophets been past the atmosphere, stay focused / Drawing lines in the sand where my feet shouldn’t pass / Building ceilings over dreams, putting caps on the path.”
They’re comfortable in boxes and want you living in one too. They’re measuring your wingspan but have never seen you fly.
“They comfortable in boxes, want me living in one too / Speaking on my potential but they never been through / What I’ve been through, what I’m built for, what’s inside.”
The Countdown
The chorus is pure defiance:
“Watch me soar, watch me soar! / Higher than they said I’d ever go before / Watch me soar, watch me soar! / Breaking through the ceiling, I’m settling the score.”
“They drew the line but I rewrote the law.”
That’s the energy—not asking permission. Not waiting for approval. Just igniting the engines and watching them scramble to explain what they’re seeing.
Building the Sound
Musically, this needed trap rap energy meeting South African folk rock. Hard-hitting 808 bass drops, aggressive flow, but then an anthemic folk-rock chorus with bright maskandi guitar.
The verses are all rapid-fire delivery, menacing, then aggressive:
“Ignition! Permission? Nah, I don’t need that / Three, two, one, I’m gone where they can’t see at / Gravity tried to hold me but the force too strong, G / Been a astronaut in waiting my whole life long, see.”
The Zulu became the warrior chant—the ancestral backup:
“Phakama! Phakama! / Sizofika phezulu!” (Rise up! Rise up! / We will reach the heights!)
Building intensity, spiritual and militant. Traditional drums underneath, heavy and driving.
The Victory Lap
Verse three is the view from orbit:
“Look at me now, zero gravity, I’m floating free, see / They said impossible, I made it look like poetry / Turned their ceilings into floors, now I’m building higher, yo / Every ‘no’ became the fuel feeding my fire though.”
Because here’s the secret: their limitations aren’t structural. They’re psychological. The ceiling you’re breaking through? It’s made of belief, not concrete.
“They still talking ’bout the sky while I’m conquering space, yes! / This for every dreamer told to dream smaller, facts / Every kid with vision they tried to make shorter, that’s wack.”
What It Means Now
This song gets me hyped every single time. It’s become my pre-game. Before anything where I need to show up big, this goes on.
Because I still encounter those voices—external and internal—trying to cap my ambitions. Suggesting I scale back. Be more realistic.
And I think: “You’re describing YOUR limit. Not mine.”
The ones doubting you loudest are usually the ones who quit on themselves. They can’t fathom you succeeding because they couldn’t fathom it for themselves.
The Universal Thread
If you’re reading this, somebody has probably told you to stay in your lane. Dream smaller. Be realistic. Set achievable goals.
Here’s what they’re really saying: “Your ambition makes me uncomfortable because it reminds me of my own untapped potential.”
That’s not your problem.
You weren’t born to play small so others can feel comfortable. You weren’t given wings just to keep them folded.
“Mama told me ‘baby, you were born with wings’ / Now I’m proving to the cosmos what belief brings, king.”
The sky isn’t the limit. It never was. That’s just where small thinkers stop looking up.
Countdown’s started. Fuel’s ignited. Trajectory locked.
Watch me soar.
Listen to “Watch Me Soar” and break through your ceiling.
From the album Ancient Roads
