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Usa A− / A+ para ajustar el tamañoHold Your Own
(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 bodyYoungin', don't you want your life?Don't be stupid, this ain't kamikazeHow you 'posed to hustle? You can't focusyou out here takin' RoxiesKnowin' I got the trick like hocus pocusfor to drop the boxesHold your own, young manHoldAnd remember no loveInside these streets you roamGo, New York in a peacoat, catch me jumpin' out of taxisJust paid ten million for my taxes, no time for flashin'Transaction active, he too flashyWhat's the worse perhaps could happen?Result in him tied up on the other side of the bedstuffed under the mattressTryna twist my world around like she a Rubik's CubeTryna bring some love around to stop my hustleI'll murder CupidShe say, "You don't deserve me, stupidyou fuckin' jerk, let go of my shirt"Since grandma died, I ain't go to churchshe a gospel woman, the past hurtIn the eight Atlantic section, hand in a pot, I'm with VLBeen a chef before a rapper, I was tryna show 'emthat my recipes still good stillDuckin' from a line of steel, they done [?] the carTell the bosses in my time"I'm on the line, hold your cigar"Shots fired, we send 'em back, the neighbors say they saw usAnd they knowin' we can't control itbut try protectin' they lil' boyFeelin' insecure, I could work you goodbut feel like a lil' boyThat's just me, I'm thinkin' out loudbut your bitch'll tell you I go hardI done jumped up out my sleep, I'm on K2, it's not that boyNo direction, ain't no plansjust tell Khris to just press recordJust bought a new house for my girlmy daughters, and my lil' boysSix million, bitchI'm sittin' on top the mountain like Costello, niggaHold your own, young manHoldAnd remember no loveInside these streets you roamJust did time, became a hustlertryna 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 pastorRun from police, they don't like me'cause I'm a rich fuckin' bastardTurn it up, go fasterI come from stolen cars to my own whipGot a shooter inside with me, ain't got no namethey 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 aroundthey said, "They cloned him"Mathematics gon' switch my whole positionwe play with numbers hereStart it, end it, puttin' shit in the gravethis be them diggers, yeahGreen flag tattoos all on they faceand they be quick to killFrom the environment, holdin' my bitch bodyit was an attempt to get me drilledThe art of water, art of murder, look who standin' stillAudemars came stainless steelPortrait painter can't even paint the kidDA tryna paint the pictureA lie, I can't, the truths, I bidSigned a gentle bond, still set the bidDreamed of contract business as a kidHold your own, young manHoldAnd remember no loveInside these streets you roam
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