Art

Lil baby writer Built from fire in a skillet Thesis on a plaque Slick back No fillin Lil belly rider Feelin sick with every pivot Built bone biting Poke the script To see it fidget Everybody tryna Topple me Realize that I'm stuck Kept my head tight Tongue-tied No bluff Diamond in the ruff I found myself inside the cut Full cup Of a niggas Blood lust Imma dig a ditch Have it throw another fit Double toxic Make it run they pockets Imma hit a lick Then go take a niggas lips Prove to deaf kids That my music makes sense Lil baby writer Built from fire in a skillet Thesis on a plaque Slick back No fillin Lil belly rider Feelin sick with every pivot Built bone biting Poke the script To see it fidget Made my teeth bright white To tell the truth on-site Saw the back of my eye From under a black light Pop pop pop A conscious kite The vessel of last night Forget about what's right To live an alright life Party in the body With a pistol on deck Test an attack Through a Christmas check Glock from an old Ted Talk with a cop Tomahawk hawked Through the head of the boss Says who Mr. Rubberhead has become an extremely lonely fellow No one else there to listen to him But the sick kid Who's not even made one singular peep In the last two weeks He misses when The child was able respond to his stories Now He just sleeps Mr. Rubberhead spends his time Writing new stories for the kid Hopefully This cheers him up when he's back awake When Rubber Can actually apologize to him