Well

Yeah

Lot of folks wanna a check off me

Not a lot wanna check on me

Talkin' to me like "where’s my cut?"

Like I got treasure chests on me

Talkin' to me like "damn you changed"

Talkin' to me one mile a minute

Then they ask me for a picture though

And wonder why I don’t smile in it

Put on my hoodie then put on my coat

Cover up my face so you didn't know

See me in public from my head to my toes

Probably me, you should leave me alone

Spent the whole week in the booth all alone

My manager want a song that is happy

Back to the lab to rewrite what I wrote

Maybe I cannot do this shit alone

Maybe I need me a ghostwriter too

Write me a song that I probably should use

Happy go lucky and sing me a tune

Maybe can help me with choruses too

Lord knows that isn't my strong suit

Lord knows I'm lacking attributes

Lord knows every time my manager call me

Mothafucka, I got this attitude

The worst part at doing things all by yourself

Is when they fall you cannot blame nobody else

I could be on a floor and dying by myself

And still be too embarrassed askin' for your help

I can't complain, but if I could I prolly would, so in that case

I'm doin' well, I’m doin’ well (doin' well)

I’m bound to fall when I pick up on your call

I'm doin' well, I'm doin’ well

I'm smart enough to write this song

But not enough to go market it

Rich enough not to worry 'bout it

But not enough to let mamma quit

I'm wise enough to know who I am

But not enough to know what I can be

Loud enough for them to hear me out

But not enough for them to understand me

I'm proud enough to brag all the time

But not enough to forget the flaws

Loyal enough to buy my friends a meal

But not enough to give my friend a job

I'm liked enough to not get kicked out

But not enough for them to invite me

Cool enough to bring a chick back

But not enough for her to really like me

Ay, free shit, free shit, all around my house just free shit

I'm famous enough to get shit for free

But not enough to get the shit I like

Reliable enough to kill the show

Bot not enough to show up on time

Believe in myself enough to grind

But not enough to not fucking sign

Ay, tell the label I need a crib

With a tennis court for mommy and a bed for my bitch

Both of 'em know my life is all up in the air

Right now this could be the biggest I get

So right now tell my manager bring in the paperwork

I know that it ain't about the money, sure

I know how the paper work

I know how the fame work

I know how the dudes work

I'm a success now, but still could be a loser

The worst part at doing things all by yourself

Is when they fall you cannot blame nobody else

I could be on a floor and dying by myself

And still be too embarrassed askin' for your help

I can't complain, but if I could I prolly would, so in that case

I'm doin' well, I'm doin' well (doin' well)

I'm bound to fall when I pick up on your call

I'm doin' well, I'm doin' well