Posted on the block, my chain swangin'
Oh, to be young and dumb
Don't believe in one-on-ones
Thirty clip the AR and we love them drums
From where niggas die, gotta be smart and keep you a gun
My homie died, heard his mama cry, R.I.P. to her son
Wasn't on point, he'd be alive, he ain't get to run
Livin' every day hopin' we survive, this the life of the slum
In that black hearse, took his last ride, in the dirt, now he done
So much goin' on, I can't feel a thing, I think that I'm numb
Pay attention to detail, made a million off my email
Out in Malibu steppin' on seashells
But it could be a Glock 23 shell
Was stuck in the hood but I prevailed
Where I come from, we don't see Yale
Block baby, I'm a trap scholar
I really studied them streets well
Eyeball the work, we don't need scales
I got baking soda on resale
He'll do anything not to see jail
No respect if he act like a female
He really a bitch, uh, I gave my glizzy a switch
Four seconds, we empty a stick
Bro just like Curry, he really don't miss, uh
Oh, to be young and dumb
Don't believe in one-on-ones
Thirty clip the AR and we love them drums
From where niggas die, gotta be smart and keep you a gun
My homie died, heard his mama cry, R.I.P. to her son
Wasn't on point, he'd be alive, he ain't get to run
Livin' every day hopin' we survive, this the life of the slum
In that black hearse, took his last ride, in the dirt, now he done
So much goin' on, I can't feel a thing, I think that I'm numb
Society got too many distractions
Every problem don't need a reaction
Toughest niggas, they be in the past tense
Even though kept his heat, he was lackin'
Lost his homie, he seen the shit happen
Knee-deep in that beef, it was crackin'
All this trauma increasin' the damage
Hot shit with 'em demons attractin'
This shit'll leave you writin' love letters from a county cell
How you fight in your sleep 'cause you haunted from soul odors? Dead body smell
Face to face with the devil and he got control on him 'cause he know him well
He just hopin' the Lord gon' give him another chance 'fore he go to Hell
Oh, to be young and dumb
Don't believe in one-on-ones
Thirty clip the AR and we love them drums
From where niggas die, gotta be smart and keep you a gun
My homie died, heard his mama cry, R.I.P. to her son
Wasn't on point, he'd be alive, he ain't get to run
Livin' every day hopin' we survive, this the life of the slum
In that black hearse, took his last ride, in the dirt, now he done
So much goin' on, I can't feel a thing, I think that I'm numb
