| Don’t you leave me, baby, ooh |
| Don’t leave me, leave me, no, no |
| I just wanna be you and me, baby |
| A good kid, raised in a world so tragic |
| Charm of his momma, and the heart of his daddy |
| Got his whole life ahead of him, he smart and he ready |
| With a crown on his melon, but it’s hard and it’s heavy |
| He was young, under pressure, love guns and aggressive |
| Too intelligent to be out actin' dumb 'cause he special |
| Went to jail at like twelve, had his run ins with oppressors |
| And he stayed in situations, like he made it his profession |
| Born over East, so we grew up on the Eastside |
| Had family on the Southside and burbs, he lived three lives |
| He shy but charismatic, read stories in his free time |
| He had love for the savages, way before he had the street ties |
| He was always labeled cool, he was always good in school |
| But he mastered bein' devious, didn’t like to follow rules |
| Used to hang with older cousins, they was like his sisters, brothers |
| But he couldn’t act like the youngest, they ain’t cut him slack for nothin' |
| Doin' things they did as teens, so at like ten, he started fuckin' |
| Wasn’t from a broken home but it was hardly no discussion |
| He ain’t learned the birds and bees, only black stone with jeans |
| Family functions, all he seen, was drinkin' Gin and smokin' weed |
| He ain’t know they was misleadin' him, with all the shit they feedin' him |
| Dependent so he needed 'em, in a strange way they breeded him |
| For a cold world to be strong on his own, they gave him leadership |
| Set goals and had dreams, by any means, that he achievin' 'em |
| He barely spoke of anything, ain’t think no one believed in him |
| He’d learn fast, circumstances turn 'em bad |
| Gained loyalty from his friends, sometimes he felt that’s all he had |
| It’s all good, they havin' fun |
| Next year, they all dead, fucked up his head |
| Vicious now that he older, confident, he bolder (Bolder) |
| Turnt into a soldier (A soldier), hardly ever sober (Sober) |
| Big chip on his shoulders (Shoulders), rap sheet like a folder (Folder) |
| Could feel the walls closin' (Closin'), he filled up with emotions |
| Still feel like he chosen, if they know, call him, «Golden» |
| At that rap shit, he the coldest, but he don’t know how to open, shit |
| So don’t nobody know it, gotta find a way to show it |
| Thuggin' hard and he can’t focus, this his chance and he can’t blow it |
| Too much pride to ride a wave, now all the stars won’t even notice him |
| But he know he him |
| Fast forward with time, he on his grind, now they all over him |
| Now the niggas wanna be him, the ones that left, they comin' again |
| Now everybody want him to win, they wanna get in |
| City ain’t gon' never stop 'cause he locked in |
| And he gon' make it to the top 'cause he locked in |
| His strong will and his mind, that’s his only friend |
| Shit ain’t easy but it’s fine, stay strategic with his time |
| Felt like when he picked up five, he just dropped ten |
| Took his losses to the chin, but he like, «Not again» |
| Most the shit he ever lost in life, he got again |
| Open your eyes and see, that nigga was me |
| Ooh, ooh-ooh |
| Ooh-ooh, ooh |
| Ooh-ooh, ooh, ooh |
| Ooh, oh-ooh, ooh, ooh |
| Ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh |
| Ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh |
| Ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh |
| Ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh |
| Ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh |
| Ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh |