Artist of the Century

Yeah, yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah Huh You gotta be, I mean, probably above me Proud of me, workin' 'gainst the odds and the ugly It's comedy, the hurtin' be disguised as a subtweet A prodigy workin' out the five, not a sublease Bottom feed, growin' out of poverty is toughenin' Monogamy, it was only pottery I fucked with Coddled me, nowadays, it's honestly a dungeon It boggle me, turned another opp into a custy Apologies, tryna free the colony like Tubman Debauchery, never seen this side of me in public Bottle fiend, I don't wait 'til Halloween for ruckus It's time to eat, gave 'em all that modesty for nothin' The collard greens replacin' all the college dreams I fronted Prophecies, they favor the facades, I debunk it Props to the puppets, shots for the huntress 'Fore guapanese play you on the spot like a trumpet My partner T took me on the job as a youngin Propped like a pumpkin, shocked was redundant I plotted cheese but really needed God in abundance My mind full of fuck shit, eyes on the hundreds I could put it on my life, ooh I gotta put it on my life if I want it, uh I been puttin' up with strife since a youngin The prize isn't much, but the price is a-, hmm Gotta put it on my life if I want it, uh I been puttin' up with strife since a youngin The prize isn't much, but the price is abundant, uh Patient suffering severe anxiety And attempting to treat condition by booking on Sunday afternoons In order to avoid confronting condition The prognosis still in doubt Treatment so far, putting head in sand Hello? At your service My name is-