| Song | P2 |
| Artist | YoungStar |
| Album | Numbers |
| We was kids when we first met, | |
| I can’t forget | |
| When we met, | |
| I took a breath, | |
| I recollect we took a step | |
| Together, unison, | |
| I was a bad boy, a hooligan | |
| Now Junior went, | |
| I’m full of sin | |
| Speaking poetry to your innocence, dividend indifferent ‘ | |
| Bout deliberate relations ‘cause she know a nigga ignorant | |
| Like bull’s eye, | |
| I grew with the wind | |
| And forget about the shit, pretend like it never happened | |
| Just friends or belligerent enemies sending false | |
| Energy to belly feeds to the fire of the pedigree | |
| Life’s a bitch in the seventies, to the | |
| Third degree and | |
| I ain’t got a job, but shit it works for me | |
| She love the fact that | |
| I live driving on the edge | |
| Purposely, money ain’t for degree, but it’s worth a | |
| C I go blind for that little light of mine | |
| Keep it cited, ma, and | |
| I’m a let it shine [Hook: Hodgy Beats] | |
| Even though we have our own | |
| Problems and differences | |
| I still fuck | |
| With you Even though we had our own | |
| Fallouts, we pitchin’ fits | |
| I still fuck | |
| With you [Verse 2: Hodgy Beats] | |
| I was never a motherfucker to want beef | |
| Until you went and put my shit out in the front streets | |
| Yeah, I sold drugs. | |
| Nigga, what heat? | |
| Yeah, I stole shit, sold it in the streets, | |
| I’m a go-getter | |
| Never jealous of a nigga, gotta stack my money | |
| Steal another nigga figures | |
| I don’t need a fucking chain, bitch | |
| I’m here to gain that | |
| Bitch, I need fucking ring, where [?] at? | |
| We all call this here a game cause we in it for the same | |
| In it for the funds, throw a little buns | |
| Listen to the [?] smoke inside your lungs | |
| Get a little drunk, got your bitch speaking tounges | |
| Have a little offspring, | |
| NBA wouldn’t support it | |
| Known if we was broke, clinic woulda got aborted | |
| Work now play now a nigga runnin’ offense | |
| Bitch, I’m in | |
| Miami and | |
| I’m swimming with the | |
| Dolphins [Hook x2] [Verse 3: Earl Sweatshirt] | |
| I don't like going sober to the hospital | |
| Shit only make me nauseous, | |
| I'm not with it | |
| So I'm out front parked in a car with a | |
| Few of my niggas hard getting foggy, yeah | |
| Last year, | |
| I ain't know what the cost of a coffin was | |
| So now I'm often buzzed in the apartment bummin' | |
| Looking for new chords and a larger | |
| Nugget I’m the stars above me when | |
| I spark and tug this | |
| Far from hard, but | |
| I’m a snarl in public | |
| Cause we large in numbers, | |
| Trash Wang | |
| Wolf Gang, we the clique, not a stain on me, ho | |
| Not a fray in a knit, in the car with the work | |
| Now, real nigga quiet while the talking occurs | |
| Feel like | |
| I’m flying when | |
| I’m off from the herb | |
| Fuck ‘em all, let the army disperse | |
| Know the swamp lay ‘em all in the dirt | |
| Had to stop, re-assess some agendas | |
| Tad bit sicker than the rest of the clinic | |
| Maybe head up, sending threats to your henchmen | |
| We the best, period, the end of the sentence | |
| Roughneck putting paws to the pavement | |
| Lane switch, | |
| I’m a blow haze ‘till | |
| I can’t think | |
| Shrink told me | |
| I should learn how to pace this | |
| Big homie told me, “ | |
| Nah, nigga, take this.” | |
| Shots 'till my damn liver hates me | |
| Momma saying that she knowing that | |
| I need help | |
| Nah, on the highway to | |
| Hades with my | |
| Motherfuckin’ seatbelt off |
| We was kids when we first met, | |
| I can' t forget | |
| When we met, | |
| I took a breath, | |
| I recollect we took a step | |
| Together, unison, | |
| I was a bad boy, a hooligan | |
| Now Junior went, | |
| I' m full of sin | |
| Speaking poetry to your innocence, dividend indifferent ' | |
| Bout deliberate relations ' cause she know a nigga ignorant | |
| Like bull' s eye, | |
| I grew with the wind | |
| And forget about the shit, pretend like it never happened | |
| Just friends or belligerent enemies sending false | |
| Energy to belly feeds to the fire of the pedigree | |
| Life' s a bitch in the seventies, to the | |
| Third degree and | |
| I ain' t got a job, but shit it works for me | |
| She love the fact that | |
| I live driving on the edge | |
| Purposely, money ain' t for degree, but it' s worth a | |
| C I go blind for that little light of mine | |
| Keep it cited, ma, and | |
| I' m a let it shine Hook: Hodgy Beats | |
| Even though we have our own | |
| Problems and differences | |
| I still fuck | |
| With you Even though we had our own | |
| Fallouts, we pitchin' fits | |
| I still fuck | |
| With you Verse 2: Hodgy Beats | |
| I was never a motherfucker to want beef | |
| Until you went and put my shit out in the front streets | |
| Yeah, I sold drugs. | |
| Nigga, what heat? | |
| Yeah, I stole shit, sold it in the streets, | |
| I' m a gogetter | |
| Never jealous of a nigga, gotta stack my money | |
| Steal another nigga figures | |
| I don' t need a fucking chain, bitch | |
| I' m here to gain that | |
| Bitch, I need fucking ring, where ? at? | |
| We all call this here a game cause we in it for the same | |
| In it for the funds, throw a little buns | |
| Listen to the ? smoke inside your lungs | |
| Get a little drunk, got your bitch speaking tounges | |
| Have a little offspring, | |
| NBA wouldn' t support it | |
| Known if we was broke, clinic woulda got aborted | |
| Work now play now a nigga runnin' offense | |
| Bitch, I' m in | |
| Miami and | |
| I' m swimming with the | |
| Dolphins Hook x2 Verse 3: Earl Sweatshirt | |
| I don' t like going sober to the hospital | |
| Shit only make me nauseous, | |
| I' m not with it | |
| So I' m out front parked in a car with a | |
| Few of my niggas hard getting foggy, yeah | |
| Last year, | |
| I ain' t know what the cost of a coffin was | |
| So now I' m often buzzed in the apartment bummin' | |
| Looking for new chords and a larger | |
| Nugget I' m the stars above me when | |
| I spark and tug this | |
| Far from hard, but | |
| I' m a snarl in public | |
| Cause we large in numbers, | |
| Trash Wang | |
| Wolf Gang, we the clique, not a stain on me, ho | |
| Not a fray in a knit, in the car with the work | |
| Now, real nigga quiet while the talking occurs | |
| Feel like | |
| I' m flying when | |
| I' m off from the herb | |
| Fuck ' em all, let the army disperse | |
| Know the swamp lay ' em all in the dirt | |
| Had to stop, reassess some agendas | |
| Tad bit sicker than the rest of the clinic | |
| Maybe head up, sending threats to your henchmen | |
| We the best, period, the end of the sentence | |
| Roughneck putting paws to the pavement | |
| Lane switch, | |
| I' m a blow haze ' till | |
| I can' t think | |
| Shrink told me | |
| I should learn how to pace this | |
| Big homie told me, " | |
| Nah, nigga, take this." | |
| Shots ' till my damn liver hates me | |
| Momma saying that she knowing that | |
| I need help | |
| Nah, on the highway to | |
| Hades with my | |
| Motherfuckin' seatbelt off |