Thinking about stuff
One, two
These are my latest thoughts, yeah
I been thinking 'bout retiring
Looking back, I sure coulda used a good rivalry
I hated some folks, but I kept it too casual
I had a couple opps, but they was all supernatural
I'm gettin' too old, my first album title, might've been too bold
I conjured up a gremlin, how do I get rid of you?
"What the fuck is Art Rap?" in every damn interview
I coulda had a better stage show
Kept rockin' with Pro and also had Dave, though
Hellfyre brothers used to talk about stage craft
Instead, we just dropped bangers people could ragе at
I pop then the jewеls flew
I wear gold chains and can't jump like I used to
I'm one man climate change, the sea levels plummet
Photos of the show drop and I got a big stomach
Stakes might be lower but it's more of a mission
This indie shit's more like a war of attrition
Got a well paid gig, no fans to greet me
Sweetly, my girl said it was beneath me
I debuted age thirty
Did everything good, but a year too early
And never going wide is a side effect
Even with the New York Times and the Tiny Desk
I tried skipping to the three, four, five
New Negroes almost died at the pilot test
And I tripped, I took up my headroom
Saw a billboard of myself from my bedroom
Right above the chicken joint
Gladwell would've bet that this was The Tipping Point
I felt what the kids call GOATed
I took selfies under it and hoped somebody noticed
But ain't nobody watch it
Friday night ratings, sell low, says the stock tips
Household "who?" only fans know about me
I wanna leave the game behind like Scott Rogowsky
Rest in peace to Biz Markie
I'm artsy and working for WKRP
One silver lining in the rhymes that I wrote today
Twenty years in, now I know my own vocal range
I finally figured it out
Shit took a minute
One, two
These are my latest thoughts, yeah
I been thinking 'bout retiring
Looking back, I sure coulda used a good rivalry
I hated some folks, but I kept it too casual
I had a couple opps, but they was all supernatural
I'm gettin' too old, my first album title, might've been too bold
I conjured up a gremlin, how do I get rid of you?
"What the fuck is Art Rap?" in every damn interview
I coulda had a better stage show
Kept rockin' with Pro and also had Dave, though
Hellfyre brothers used to talk about stage craft
Instead, we just dropped bangers people could ragе at
I pop then the jewеls flew
I wear gold chains and can't jump like I used to
I'm one man climate change, the sea levels plummet
Photos of the show drop and I got a big stomach
Stakes might be lower but it's more of a mission
This indie shit's more like a war of attrition
Got a well paid gig, no fans to greet me
Sweetly, my girl said it was beneath me
I debuted age thirty
Did everything good, but a year too early
And never going wide is a side effect
Even with the New York Times and the Tiny Desk
I tried skipping to the three, four, five
New Negroes almost died at the pilot test
And I tripped, I took up my headroom
Saw a billboard of myself from my bedroom
Right above the chicken joint
Gladwell would've bet that this was The Tipping Point
I felt what the kids call GOATed
I took selfies under it and hoped somebody noticed
But ain't nobody watch it
Friday night ratings, sell low, says the stock tips
Household "who?" only fans know about me
I wanna leave the game behind like Scott Rogowsky
Rest in peace to Biz Markie
I'm artsy and working for WKRP
One silver lining in the rhymes that I wrote today
Twenty years in, now I know my own vocal range
I finally figured it out
Shit took a minute
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