I miss the feeling of knowing im on top,
You know when the crowd awaits your next drop,
And when you start to leave they scream, Don't stop!
I wouldn't call my self washed up,
But i'm tempted to say burned out,
I'm losing creativity without a doubt,
I'm washed up, So you hung me out to dry,
Saying im the best is just another lie.

It's not the first lie though, It's one for the records books,
Im all about true flows, and catchy hooks,
One simple payment of dough is all it really took,
Im burnt out so bad, You could say i got cooked,
I'm stuck, my blood is in a drought,
My passion is running out,
And I could sit here and I could pout,
Or i could do what i say im all about.

And what I say im all about is the fun,
Im like Michael Jackson i could use a little sun,
But Im basically burnt like a overcooked turkey, Im Done.