Yuh

'Cause I burn a boy like a do on

(Ain't even in my lane, boy)

Yuh, it must be 'cause I'm gettin' on

It's like most of the ends don't get along

But my money's on me, who you bettin' on?

You can call me Young D or Teflon

'Cause I burn a boy like D on Stefflon

Yeah I'm steppin' in, and I'm steppin' on

And I'm steppin' out, and I'm gettin' done

You know my mates, you know exactly who I get it from

And the youngers know exactly who they get it from

We the plugs and they know exactly who they get it from

You ain't even in my lane, boy step along

Blood, it's getting long

'Cause my gun is long, and my money long

You're a funny don (funny don)

I ain't fucking with no funny ****

Imma getting money don

Huh, real **** getting money, tryna build shit

The game ain't a race, it's a marathon

So I'm juggin' and I'm

Yeah I'm chuggin' and I'm

Get to whippin' and I

Let it look and then I

Get a shotty 'cause I'm a shotter

Up and down, in and out the block-a

Ain't no cap in my music

Blood I said what I said, if the shoe fit

**** wanna act like they're lost 'til I lose it

Don't make me prove it ('cause I pull up in a-)

What?

'Cause they got me in a booth on booth shit (got me in a booth shit)

If my **** don't slide, they ain't B, gon' pull up and shoot shit (gon' pull up and bye)

Get nicked, go jail, tell the judge, "I just wanna do music" (I'm an artist)

Twenty bags for my bail 'cause a **** just wanna do music

Yeah, it must be 'cause I get about, yeah

Area boy and I'm steppin' out

Yeah, you're still in the ends, I'm jettin' out

Couldn't fill half the room, man's sellin' out

Haven't even seen half the food, man's sellin' out

But it's sellin' out, I ain't sellin' dunes, and I ain't sellin' clout

And I ain't sellin' out

This is C-Town, weapons out

You know, get 'em down, get 'em down

Did I lick 'em, did I?

Did I rob 'em, did I?

Did I jook 'em, did I?

Did I shot 'em, did I?

Yeah, it's all goin' on 'round here

Can't even make a song 'round here

So I don't need to drill rap, for him to feel that

This is real rap

I got PTSD, how the fuck they gon' heal that?

And a lot of **** dead for them ****, don't feel that

Want love from these streets, you ain't ever gon' feel that

No love for police, I ain't never gon' feel that

Didn't want me on the streets, or the beats

But they want me in the jail like these neeks ('cause I pull up in a-)

What?

'Cause they got me in a booth on booth shit (got me in a booth shit)

If my **** don't slide, they ain't B, gon' pull up and shoot shit (gon' pull up and bye)

Get nicked, go jail, tell the judge, "I just wanna do music" (I'm an artist)

Twenty bags for my bail 'cause a **** just wanna do music