| Just a cold young nigga from the ghetto |
| I had to hustle, ain’t nobody give me nothing |
| Just spent four nights with no survis, me and my brother |
| And my mama now |
| Get more money, I deposit |
| Doing shows, I remember I used to fly shit |
| Reminiscing on days when I was without shit |
| Gold bar, put it in her mouth shit |
| Nigga this a dream, I got clout, bitch |
| Sippin Lean, poppin Xans, off the Patrone |
| Where YG at, he said he poppin with the Migos |
| RJ, yeah, just did a song with the Migos |
| Free my main man, Greedo |
| Smokin dank out there, with my people |
| Pull right up in the T4 |
| Just a cold young nigga from the ghetto, just a cold young nigga from the gutter |
| I’m a cold young mack, with my thrillers |
| Shinin gold on them actors and them millers |
| I done broke bread, pinched pennys out the nickle |
| Done up in the head, done got a milly off the drippin |
| Reminiscing on them days when I was little |
| Before we learned how to jack, we had it simple |
| Thinkin way way back, I remember |
| You was hella late, way back, if I remember |
| Mr. LA, dope boy with a cannon |
| Pull up in a Wraith, all black, like Cannon |
| Smoke the whole play, we play weed while we jammin |
| Gonna lock the gates on these niggas when they scramblin |
| I’m still a prodict of the south, thrillers |
| You been a selfish bitch since Couch made thrillers |
| Got some down bitches, got the south gang with us |
| Fuck you niggas, got some people proud of me |