30 Something

Lyrics

You ain't got enough stamps in ya passport to fuck with Young H-O
 (heh-heh-heh)
 International . . . uhh
 Show young boys how to do this thing
 The maturation of Jay-Z-Z . . heh
 Check me out
 30's the new 20 nigga I'm so hot still (Uhh)
 Better broad, better auto mobile (Uhh)
 Bet a yard (Naw!) Bet a hundred mil
 That by the songs end I'll probably start another trend
 I know everything you wann' do
 I did all that by the age of twenty-one
 By twenty-two, I had that brand new Ac' coupe
 I guess you could say that my legend just begun, I'm
 Young enough to know the right car to buy
 Yet grown enough not to put rims on it
 I got that six-deuce with curtains, so you can't see me
 And I didn't even have to put tints on it
 I don't got the bright watch, I got the right watch
 I don't buy out the bar, I bought the nightspot
 I got the right stock, I got
 Stockbrokers that's movin' it like white tops
 I know you're like "FUCK! This is child abuse, call DYFS!"
 I must just be getting nicer
 You young boys ain't ready for real
 30's the new 20 nigga, I'm so hot still
 I used to let my pants sag, not givin' a fuck
 Baby boy, now I'm all grown up
 I used to cruise the used car lot, put chrome on the truck
 Baby boy, now I'm all grown up
 I used to play the block like that (like that)
 I used to carry knots like that (like that)
 Now I got Black cards, good credit and such
 Baby boy cause I'm all grown up
 30's the new 20 nigga, I'm on fire still
 These young boys is like fire drills (Uhh)
 False alarms (Uhh), the next don (Naw)
 He ain't got it (Uhh), on to the next one (Young)
 Still here (Yeah), still here like Mike
 Gotta stop playin' with these children (Chea)
 I'm a bully with the bucks (boots)
 Don't let the patent leather shoes fool you youngin'
 I got the fully in the tux
 That was my past, now I'm so grown up
 I don't got one gun on me
 Gotta a sum on me to hire a gun army, get ya spun like laundry
 And I'll be somewhere under palm trees, calmly listenin' to R&B
 When we get the call he's, no longer with us, fire ya babysitters
 You little fucks fall back for real
 30's the new 20 nigga, I'm so hot still
 I used to let my pants sag, not givin' a fuck
 Baby boy, now I'm all grown up
 I used to cruise the used car lot, put chrome on the truck
 Baby boy, now I'm all grown up
 I used to wear my hoodie like that (like that)
 Five deep in a hooptie like that (like that)
 Now I got Black cards, good credit and such
 Baby boy cause I'm all grown up
 (heh-heh-heh)
 Ya'll roll blunts, I smoke Cubans all day
 Ya'll youngin's chase, I'm Patronin' it straight
 I like South Beach, but I'm in St. Tropez
 Ya'll drink Dom, but not Rose (hey)
 Ya chick shop at the mall
 My chick burnin' down Bergdorf's
 Comin' back with Birkin bags
 Ya chick is like, "What type of purse is that?"
 I'm from the era where niggas don't snitch
 You from the era where snitchin' is the shit
 I'm afraid of the future (why?)
 Ya'll respect the one who got shot, I respect the shooter
 Ya'll go to parties to ice grill
 I go to parties to party with nice girls
 Young boys gotta chill
 30's the new 20 nigga, I'm so hot still
 I used to let my pants sag, not givin' a fuck
 Baby boy, now I'm all grown up
 I used to cruise the used car lot, put chrome on the truck
 Baby boy, now I'm all grown up
 Ya, we used to ball like that (like that)
 Now we own the ball team, holla back (holla back)
 Now I got Black cards, good credit and such
 Baby boy cause I'm all grown up
 

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
04:13
Key
11
Tempo
92 BPM

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