| No, no | 
| No, no, no, no | 
| No, no | 
| No, no, no, no | 
| No, no | 
| No, no, no, no | 
| No, no | 
| No, no, no, no | 
| Life’s crazy | 
| My parents worried 'bout me | 
| 'Cause I didn’t talk to nobody, just made beats | 
| And now I get paid by the syllable | 
| Gotta thank 'em though, I know it can be difficult | 
| As I tip-toe in and out of zip codes | 
| All on a mission of love, that’s what I live for | 
| I got big dreams, ma, I got big goals | 
| You see my old ones now because I lived those | 
| You got to admit, ma | 
| I told you I was gonna get into Duke and I did, ma | 
| I told you I would get signed and I did, ma | 
| Look at this, ma, look at this, ma | 
| No, no | 
| No, no, no, no | 
| No, no | 
| No, no, no, no | 
| All my friends feel trapped and afraid | 
| I close my eyes and try to imagine a way | 
| To wash all my old patterns away | 
| I had to stop smokin' 'cause it scattered my brain | 
| «Fuck bitches» is what my favorite rappers would say | 
| I say there is something beautiful after the pain | 
| After the pain, this can’t be real | 
| Turns out the ladder to fame is a hamster wheel | 
| When we played the Palace, my parents were first row | 
| That’s a feeling that I don’t even have words for | 
| I did my song, went backstage, and drank a Henny bottle | 
| Picked up my phone and then I started texting any model | 
| I used to put a target on every cute face | 
| And keep Plan B pills in my suitcase | 
| «That's gross, time to grow,» that’s what Ronny said | 
| Man, Willie just called, «Dawg, Ronny’s dead» | 
| I’m tryna stumble to a truer view | 
| I’m noticing the sky is a bluer hue | 
| It’s time to get to work, that’s what doers do | 
| I’m looking in the mirror like, «Who are you?» |