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die young (trap symphony verson) - roddy ricch lyrics

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[chorus]
i ain’t tryna die young, so i gotta ride with one
stood ten toes down in my balenciaga, ayy
he ran down on a n*gga, that’s a shotta, shotta
cold hearted n*gga, wet tha blocka, blocka
gotta keep it on me, i don’t wanna die young
i rather be judged by twelve, than carried by six
how am i gon’ post bail? just look at my wrist
tell me, why the legends always gotta die quick?

[verse 1]
when i’m in traffic gotta slide with the beam on me
’cause i keep ’bout ten racks bussin’ out the jeans on me
n*ggas be hatin’, i’m rich, it’s all about the cream, homie
if i ever get caught lackin’, they gon’ slide
ever since i got the rollie, i ain’t got the time
flawless diamonds, n*ggas can’t never block the shine
they know i’m ballin’ in the city like derozan
gotta keep my n*ggas ’round me, i can’t do the wrong friends
i was knockin’ down walls, now they closin’ in
hopped off the porch, and then i hopped inside the porsche, ayy
f*ck being the side n*gga, i’ma be the main course
whipped the rolls like a young n*gga made for it

[chorus]
i ain’t tryna die young, so i gotta ride with one
stood ten toes down in my balenciaga, ayy
he ran down on a n*gga, that’s a shotta, shotta
cold hearted n*gga wet that blocka, blocka
gotta keep it on me, i don’t wanna die young
i rather be judged by twelve, than carried by six
how am i gon’ post bail? just look at my wrist
tell me, why the legends always gotta die quick?

[verse 2]
tryna get my bag, i had to go and make it happen
me and my dogs, we was bussin’ out them bandos
count out them hunnids, then we throw it in the mattress
wrap it in plastic, and throw it in the attic
i be in the streets, n*gga, i stand ten toes
any n*gga in my situation would’ve been fold
we was trappin’ out the bas*m*nt, made it back tenfold
gotta stay out the way, that’s why i’m always behind the tint for
we was fightin’ fed cases, ‘member i was 2 and 0
n*gga was fightin’ depression, sippin’ syrup, i was movin’ slow
i was down below, but still, i always kept my head up
n*gga gotta get my bread up, i don’t wanna die young
no, no, no

[chorus]
i ain’t tryna die young, so i gotta ride with one
stood ten toes down in my balenciaga
he ran down on a n*gga, that’s a shotta, shotta
cold hearted n*gga wet that blocka, blocka
gotta keep it on me, i don’t wanna die young
i rather be judged by twelve, than carried by six
how am i gon’ post bail? just look at my wrist
tell me, why the legends always gotta die quick?

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