30 Something

Produced by Dr. Dre

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

[Chorus]

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 – taha!

[Verse 2]

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)

I'm 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, got 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

[Chorus]

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 – hahaha

[Verse 3]

Y'all roll blunts, I smoke Cubans all day

Y'all youngins chase, I'm Patrónin' it straight

I like South Beach, but I'm in St. Tropez

Y'all drink Dom, but not Rosé (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?)

Y'all respect the one who got shot, I respect the shooter

Y'all 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

[Chorus]

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 – taha!

Lyrics provided by LRCLIB