[Hook]
Who you tryna be, where you tryna go?
Young black boy, he the last hope
Life's hard when you living out the trap so
Full court press but he gotta make the pack move
Who you tryna be, where you tryna go?
Young black boy, he the last hope
Good grades never came with a check so
Youngin' dropped school he ain't never get to pa** notes
[Verse 1]
Said I'm just tryna be a legend 'fore 22
A 16 is the reason why I'm in the room
At 15 I had dreams of the white picket fence, with the 2 car garage and the heated pool
At 18 I'm just praying I ain't make the news
You know they k**ing us off
You know they giving us soft
And then we deal it to our brothers cause our mothers never loved us
M.O.B'n, anything to make the product move
Doing what they gotta do
Youngin' what you wanna do?
Happiness is everything, could we be living comfortable
How much for the caviar, I'm tired of these Lunchables
What's a food for thought, man can't you see these people hunting you
Open your eyes and you'll see the blind leading the blind
All my writtens scripted in Braille, just follow the signs
We done seen a lot of hell you can open the Times
And most times the media lies we pay with our lives
I'm sick and tired
I wrote this verse in vertigo
A small price if the pen can penetrate your soul
And I been hurting for a minute but we're getting close
I give you everything I got until it's curtains closed
And even then I'll probably leave a couple hidden notes
I pray my ex can make a living just from hitting notes
I pray that I can cross these bridges with some different strokes
And if they ask me why I'm living, it's to give 'em hope
[Bridge]
And when them clouds cover your view
You find your golden lining
Daydreams are bound to come true
And you just keep on grindin'
You came too far to just lose
And when your light starts shining
Thank God for bringing you through
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
Said I'm just tryna be a legend 'fore 22
A 32 is the reason why I'm in the room
An A-R probably have a youngin' flatline
Got 9 lives but it's way too many cats dying
Like
Can I even put my hands up?
Oh I get it, you the man huh?
Yeah, life's hard, it ain't fair bruh
They might get acquitted even if you got a camera
What's a short sentence, I ain't even gotta say much
Preaching to the choir, I ain't tryna be famous
Look at Creflo, all that currency just for making the jets go
You know Christ Jesus would've taken the metro
So that ain't love
65 mill, youngin' that ain't love
Here's a red pill, youngin' that ain't d**
And living on our knees, youngin' that ain't us
I said that ain't us!
Look, we just tryna make the best of it
And break bread with the Fam, got the set covered
We ain't ask for a handout, front somethin'
And don't you dare show love when the check comin'
It's all good, this as real as it gets
M.J. Game 5 with a flick of the wrist
"The Shot", so you know I gotta take it
And tell that young black boy that he gunna make it
Said he gon' make it
[Bridge]
[Hook (slowed down) x2]