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