Fountain of youth
 May our legacies live forever
 Hunh

 All my niggas quiet but we burning loud
 Machiavelli to the max: never turn it down
 Mac 11 in a Benz: how you like me now?
 I run the city so my closet look like Nike Town
 Niggas talking like bitches is it my income?
 Am I fucking your bitches? Is it official?
 My nigga did a dime, didn’t learn a thing from it
 Came home, in two weeks got him a 6 hundred
 Get a text from the boss: you know them bricks coming
 Chicks at the beach house like they gonna miss something
 From the churches I rose, only loving the dough
 From the Chevy to Rolls, now it’s fur on the floor
 Smoke an ounce of the truth: that’s my fountain of youth
 R.I.P. to Mr. Shakur, this one is for you
 Nippsey Hussle and I got my nigga Stalley on it
 Double MG burning out in Cali on it

 Stained glass window in the Benzo
 Lost in the instrumental
 Keys got me sentimental

 These rap books buried in gold
 The treasure of a million men, Versace shades trimmed in gold
 My life’s big like them camera’s explode
 Capture this rags to riches story that I unfold
 The youth fountain for the few counting
 Made money, but who’s counting?
 It’s hard stuntin living in subsidized housing
 Every bag you bring though the door, dude’s counting
 And every new girl you bring through, dude’s hounding
 They want your youth, so they watch your moves
 From your pinky ring, down to how you lace your shoes
 Rope chains with the precious jewels
 The dope game had impression rules
 What they did with cocaine and a couple spoons
 Had the whole hood acting like goons
 Trying to be the richest, trying to the be flyest
 Claim to be ballin, end up like Len Bias
 Screaming from the bottom of this fountain here, nothing but silence

 Stained glass window in the Benzo
 Lost in the instrumental
 Keys got me sentimental

 Laces in my blue Chucks, represent my bros first
 Staring at my Rollie bezel as I soul-search
 Run this money marathon til my soles hurt
 But no materials could measure what my soul’s worth
 I wanted everything, feel like I had no choice
 Young niggas wishing on a star like Rose Royce
 Being honest, killing mamas when we sold work
 I made a promise, give me options and I cold-turkey
 Sick of sitting on the side while it’s game point
 Recurring dream, tryna scream but ain’t had no voice
 Crazy lady speaking tongues said it’s gon’ work
 Never vocalize my visions, actions was my spokesperson
 Study rich niggas’ moves like my homework
 Sacrilegious however streets was my own church

 Stained glass window in the Benzo
 Lost in the instrumental
 Keys got me sentimental