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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
Oh, oh
Just remember no love, oh
Inside the streets you roam (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 a eight Atlantic section, hand in a pot, I'm with VL
Been a chef before a rapper
I was tryna show 'em that my recipe still good still
Duckin' from a line of steel, they done pried bae to the car
Tell the bosses it's 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 Chris 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 a stolo, nigga

Hold your own, young man
Oh, oh
Just remember no love, oh
Inside the streets you roam

Just did time, became 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
Where I'm from, police, they don't like me 'cause I'm a rich fuckin' bastard
Turn it up, I 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 say, "They cloned him"
Mathematics gon' switch my whole position, we play with numbers here
Started indie, 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 was an attempt to get me drilled
Through all the water, all the murder, look who standin' still
Audemars came stainless steel
Portrait painter can't even paint the kid
D.A. tryna paint the picture
A lie, I can't, the truth, I bid
Signin' general bond, still set the bid
Dreamin' of contract business as a kid

Hold your own, young man
Oh, oh
Just remember no love, oh
Inside the streets you roam
song info:
Verified yes
LanguageEnglish
Genre
Rank
Duration00:03:07
Charts
Copyright ©Kobalt Music Publishing
WriterJunior Sinchi, Kentrell Gaulden, Leonardo Mateus, Malik Bynoe-Fisher, Samuel Thanni
Lyrics licensed byLyricFind
AddedAugust 17th, 2022
Last updated
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