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    (Ayo, Bans, what you cookin'?)
    (It's Malik on the track)
    (Run that shit up, Jay)
    It's YoungBoy
    (Khris James, what the fuck?)

    Street nigga and she got a real possessive body
    Youngin', don't you want your life? Don't be stupid, this ain't kamikaze
    How you 'posed to hustle? You can't focus, you out here takin' Roxies
    Knowin' I got the trick like hocus pocus for to drop the boxes

    Hold your own, young man
    Hold
    And remember no love
    Inside these streets you roam

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    Go, New York in a peacoat, catch me jumpin' out of taxis
    Just paid ten million for my taxes, no time for flashin'
    Transaction active, he too flashy
    What's the worse perhaps could happen?
    Result in him tied up on the other side of the bed, stuffed under the mattress
    Tryna twist my world around like she a Rubik's Cube
    Tryna bring some love around to stop my hustle, I'll murder Cupid
    She say: You don't deserve me, stupid, you fuckin' jerk, let go of my shirt
    Since grandma died, I ain't go to church, she a gospel woman, the past hurt
    In the 8-Atlantic-section, hand in a pot, I'm with VL
    Been a chef before a rapper, I was tryna show 'em that my recipes still good still
    Duckin' from a line of steel, they done pried eight through the car
    Tell the bosses in my time: I'm on the line, hold your cigar
    Shots fired, we send 'em back, the neighbors say they saw us
    And they knowin' we can't control it, but try protectin' they lil' boy
    Feelin' insecure, I could work you good, but feel like a lil' boy
    That's just me, I'm thinkin' out loud, but your bitch'll tell you I go hard
    I done jumped up out my sleep, I'm on K2, it's not that boy
    No direction, ain't no plans, just tell Khris to just press record
    Just bought a new house for my girl, my daughters, and my lil' boys
    Six million, bitch, I'm sittin' on top the mountain like Costello, nigga

    Hold your own, young man
    Hold
    And remember no love
    Inside these streets you roam

    Just did time, became a hustler, tryna turn it from backwards (what that mean?)
    He been tryna make the money keep on stackin'
    Education out the streets, don't need no lecture pastor
    Run from police, they don't like me 'cause I'm a rich fuckin' bastard
    Turn it up, go faster, I come from stolen cars to my own whip
    Got a shooter inside with me, ain't got no name, they like: Who own him?
    Told youngin: Don't leave the backside of that Nawf, they like: Who zoned him?
    Finally rich, I came home and turned around, they said: They cloned him
    Mathematics gon' switch my whole position, we play with numbers here
    Start it, end it, puttin' shit in the grave, this be them diggers, yeah
    Green flag tattoos all on they face and they be quick to kill
    From the environment, holdin' my bitch body, it was an attempt to get me drilled
    The art of water, art of murder, look who standin' still
    Audemars came stainless steel
    Portrait painter can't even paint the kid
    DA tryna paint the picture
    A lie, I can't, the truths, I bid
    Signed a gentle bond, still set the bid
    Dreamed of contract business as a kid

    Hold your own, young man
    Hold
    And remember no love
    Inside these streets you roam

    Información de la canción

    Composición: YoungBoy Never Broke Again

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