(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 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