Music: Luca Watson
Lyrics: Haydn Green/Kevin Stathis
They throw up gang signs, they think they're right
Always move quick, waiting for a king hit
To knock me off course, of course
Collapsed lung, trying to lift my arms above my head
Went out for ramen when I swallow like a tack under my chest
Taken to the ER, ambo caught me off guard
Got to be hardstyle, try style, hostile
I've run my life in miles
That's a lot, maybe not
Got to be hardstyle, my style, hostile
I've run my life in miles
That's a lot (Huh), maybe not
Watch my credits roll
This shit reminds me it's for my eyes only, my life only
I swеar I heard applause when I hit thе floor
Trying to take another breath, back up on the wall
Sweating bullets in the morning
And I've walked around enough not to forget
Two-one-nine-four be the home, be the best
You can smell it on my breath
You can see it on my chest
Got to be
Got to be
Got to be hardstyle, try style, hostile
I've run my life in miles
That's a lot, maybe not
Got to be hardstyle, my style, hostile
I've run my life in miles
That's a lot (Huh), maybe not (Huh)
Got to be
Got to be
Got to be hardstyle, my style, hostile
I've run my life in miles
That's a lot (Huh), maybe not