Prodigy

Crossing paths with presidents, I kill this beat no evidence

My talent must be heaven sent, I'm running off of diesel, painting pictures on an easel

Some people think I'm evil, cause they know my beats are lethal

You could never pull this off, so know we are not equal

Foreshadowing my glory like I'm living in the prequel

Wind flowing in the grass, smoking while I'm skipping class

Instead of doing homework, all I want to do is write these raps

No cap, Buzby make the beat slap

Possessed, tell me where the priest at

No less, popping like the grease hot

I taught myself, that's why all of my beats rock

You know what time it is, you know what time it's not