Well

Yeah
 Lot of folks want 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
 Ayy, put on my hoodie then put on my coat
 Cover my face up so you didn't know
 See me in public with 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 lackin' attributes
 Lord knows every time my manager call me
 Motherfucker, I got this attitude
 The worst part of doing things all by yourself
 Is when they fall, you cannot blame nobody else
 I could be on the floor and dying by myself
 And still be too embarrassed, askin' for your help
 I can't complain, but if I could I probably would
 So in that case, I'm doin' well, I'm doin' well (I'm doin' well)
 I'm 'bout to fall but 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 mama 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 not to 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
 Ayy, 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
 Ayy, 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 of doing things all by yourself
 Is when they fall, you cannot blame nobody else
 I could be on the floor and dying by myself
 And still be too embarrassed, askin' for your help
 I can't complain, but if I could I probably would
 So in that case, I'm doin' well, I'm doin' well (I'm doin' well)
 I'm 'bout to fall but when I pick up on your call
 I'm doin' well, I'm doin' well