[Schoolboy q]

Only twelve and a half, and already ducking them jabs

Fighting back, just hoping that he last, he on his ass

Huffing and puffing, getting tagged

See what this nigga feel would only make them niggas laugh

He felt the discomfort, didn't trust him right away

Saw the devil in they eyes, his homie looking straight

But something was different in him, not the same from yesterday

Shit, his whole demeanor changed, even his smile was strange, his childhood never came

But dude was always gutter, he got it from his brother

From his brother, from his brother, brought pain onto his mother

Once was elementary homies, but now we attack each other

Shit, set love aside, tuck his pride, shit, he had to ride

Threw on his hood and then he fired, fired and fired

Fired and fired, the tires screech

Spirit up out of reach

A young nigga swallowing yeast, trapped in the belly of the beast, sheesh

[Chorus x2]

I know niggas that kill niggas, that kill niggas

That kill niggas, that kill niggas

The cycle continues

The cycle continues (kill nigga, kill nigga)

[Schoolboy q]

He only seventeen, his homies was his motive

He only seventeen, his mama never noticed

Too busy paying bills, tryna provide a meal

Pay the rent and steal, her child live for a thrill

Fulfill his niggas' wishes, no more hugs or kisses

No more 'how you been?', no more tucking in

He with them other men, poppa never came

So his cousin then would pretend, imitating if they was him

Got the pistol on him loaded, loaded off of gin

Feels like niggas on him, so he look for them

First nigga wrong, hack! blam blam to him

Paranoia kills, kill or be killed

Let alone all them thugs, let alone all them drugs

Treat is kinda like a bud, let's see how karma does

Let's see how much he loves shoot 'em up, shoot 'em up, bam, bam

[Chorus x2]

[Schoolboy q]

This nigga twenty-one, he feel like he the man

This nigga twenty-one, his mom said be a man

Love to sag his pants, pistol in his hand

Feel he too advanced, him slipping out his chance

Think he at his best, he hit the set, he making orders

Got them lil' niggas busting shots and flipping quarters

An ounce a half, double up, shit, what you order?

Even dimes think with a corrupted mind

Adapted to the crime, living with regrets

In order to survive gotta get high

Cautious with time, paranoia all through his body

Trying love for a hobby, you know gangsters come with kids

Teaching them wasn't his

Ebt, the corner store, he go to fill up the fridge

Approached by a little nigga, hoodie over his lid

Looked down the barrel of a burner tucked, aimed at his wig

Let him fire, then he fired, fired

[Chorus x2]