The Artist

Ay once again, I started questioning rap

Said the same words like I was relishing crap

Started to think that I was doing my own thing

But it only sounded more annoying than my phone ring

Its on a phone that I was doing recording

Trusted that shit more than the people thats was supporting

Now I'm thrown off the orbit, the path remains unclear

Basically speaking, I'm contemplating careers

Like what to do if I wasn't doing this talking

I should be on your stereo more than news talking radio

Just tryna make it though, thats the reason I say it though

I would've took different route if this wasn't the way to go

Being a lyrical artist makes you crazy and cynical

But at the same time it can turn your life into miracles

We call the haters the people thats always throwing shade

And as artists we feel that shit, but we getting paid

And thats the motivation

Fuck all these flagrant statements

We all just want the payments

Fuck all this estimating

For ones thats understated

Ones underestimated

We sat here and we waited

While other niggas made it

So fuck the average artist

I'm tryna spit the smartest

Ay fuck the average artist

I'm tryna spit the hardest

Tired of speaking modest

Niggas are never honest

We out here giving our last, these niggas get whats promised

I'm going in blunt

Tired of posing fronts

Tell mister nice guy

He can go bye bye

I'm not debated so I'm not elated

I'm too frustrated

Writing songs for too many years thats why I start to hate it

Its annoying how people keep getting hyped up

Then throw shade at niggas thats tryna hype up

They tryna come up, and niggas run up get done up

These verbal contests not on text and thats fucked up

Times are getting harder, and we getting frantic

People so damn crazy I think they schizophrenic

Too many crimes too much time is taken away

Too many rhymes too much lines are said in a day

About these crimes the blind man can't even see

I bet Stevie Wonder would come on this and agree

These people crazy they acting shady, Lord set us free

This ain't a Christian rap but I pray that you hear my plea

Ay its cold world, better have that jacket homie

I'm only sixteen and I'm seeing phonies

I was born by my lonely despite my brother, sister

Left alone but I can still say I missed ya

So fuck the average artist

I'm tryna spit the smartest

Ay fuck the average artist

I'm tryna spit the hardest

Tired of speaking modest

Niggas are never honest

We out here giving our last, these niggas get whats promised

Asa lama lakum pray that peace be with you

You do it for the fam, even though they make the issue

I feel you homie, thats that shit that I had been through

But niggas blind to see, I see the same shit that they do

But I'm not a statistic, I'm just observing yall

Police do everything they can to get ya man involved

It ain't fair, politics don't care

I hate a suit and tie I go to interviews in tears

I represent the situations I had been in

They say the ones not winning most likely the ones thats sinning

I was born to lose, but raised to be a king

Just because I don't say the same thing that don't mean I don't yall sing

I can hear it clearly, because its in my ears

And it rings around my head, so this song the only thing I hear

I hear the patterns round and round like rings on Saturn

Catchy is it, now it matters cause you can never get the latter

The meaning of every word that these artists say

We try to make yall feel the words, but you just all wanna play

So fuck the average artist

I'm tryna spit the smartest

Ay fuck the average artist

I'm tryna spit the hardest

Tired of speaking modest

Niggas are never honest

We out here giving our last, these niggas get whats promised