(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 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 eight 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... 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