Black Boy - Young Greatness

Every nigga from that seven

Grind like they gotta win

They say my name even when that gang grind

Bitch I’m from the gutter I deserve to shine

At long nights thinking shooting with a K

This shit fucked up my city crying everyday

Young black boy he wanna run like Ricky Waters

But he dead broke on the block and he selling quarters

Man what would you do if your grandma didn’t have money to pay the cable

Ever see your best friend die right in front you

Ever seen his baby momma cry right in front you

Heard of yall december walk

Full scholarships

Man that’s kinda fucked up

Hood politics

It’s cold in my city streets

It’s cold in my city streets

Man

If you open your eyes then you could see that he grinds so hard

He hung out in the block every night but he still had dreams

For the love of the money

For the love of the money

He lost everything

He had a vision

Running all them dime plays

But he got fucked up trapping in them hallways

Everyday he prayed to make it out

But he had to choose a hustle route

Dirty sox dirty drawers he wants some new shit

So he stayed on that block having long nights

Caught his first body

Couple shoot outs

Counted bout twenty bands in his shoebox

And the homie was so cold but we’ll never know

All they got is his blood on the city streets

A couple tatted bass where he laid at

A lonely cold blanket where they prayed at

It’s fucked up cause everybody we love they gotta take from us

And everybody we trust they take our breath from us

Black ballers from the seven with a heart of passion

Then they stole all his dreams for the love of trappin

Jail due nigga

If your chasing your dream

Nigga your grandma lights cut off nigga

You ain’t never seventeen

If you open your eyes then you could see that he grinds so hard

He hung up on the block every night but he still had dreams

For the love of the money

For the love of the money

He lost everything