[ScHoolboy Q] As a younger age, never really gave a shit Just my grandma arms, kept me out of harm Nigga went to class, my football pass Kept the burner stashed, they ain't gon' catch my ass In the Pontiac with the bad speakers Back then? Shit, I was into sneakers and fitted caps, side kicks My same bitch, she a down bitch Had a little daughter, glad it ain't a boy Knew she'd bring me joy, so I named her Joy Kiss her on her head, then I kiss her lips Then I kiss her cheek, lay her down to sleep Trials and tribulations helped me through my situations Little observations stopped the cops from confrontations And the ghetto bird, and a nigga snitched But I'm still dipping, shit, I ain't tripping
[Chorus: ScHoolboy Q over an incomprehensible sample] + (BJ the Chicago Kid) I'm good, I'm good, I'm good, I'm good, I'm good... I'm good, I'm good, I'm good, I'm good, I'm good... I'm good, I'm good, I'm good, I'm good, I'm good... I'm good, I'm good, I'm good, I'm good, I'm good... (I know I'm not perfect But I'll still make a decision that make my life still worth it, yea-ea-eahhh And sometimes it may hurt But I know what you see ain't what it's gon' be, cause I know my worth, yeeeaaahhhh...)
[ScHoolboy Q] Got a lil' older, nigga seen a lot of shit Been out in Boston, even got to see the Knicks I've been to Dallas, slap a five with the bench Back to the hood where niggas betting on the six But shit is crazy Lil' Teisha and Tamika bout to kill they babies Pregnant at the same time, and they think that shit is cute Always running from the truth, bigger dream they must pursue And they babies wasn't in it Just going bout they business in the club She off of Guinness, adioses with the lemon V.I.P. she dreams of, in the club looking for mean buzz In a dress looking distinctive {?} got that ass hanging with the biggest baller in the club Ain't got a dub, but she want some love Wasn't polite, but she feel it's right Lay it down, then he dimmed the lights, played it right for the night
[Chorus]
[Punch] Uh, ignorance is bliss, but to know is pain No matter what we reap, we still sow the same The concept of change is second-rate to change Either way around, the cycle still remains Out my project window, observing the wannabes blowing endo Shooting dice on the corner, big homie roll up with his kinfolk Unfold a stack on 'em like, what they hitting for? Slamming the doors on his Benzo He left the engine running, bumping something sounding like late eighties R&B, trunk full of China white Type of nigga ladies like, known dope dealer Money, cash, hoes getter, slash stone cold killer He can't sleep at night, his victim's eyes piercing through his soul He wake up every time his eyes close That's who them young boys aspire to see Underneath the palm trees, that's who they dying to be But I'm good
