[Intro: Rick Ross] Fountain of youth May our legacies live forever Hunh
[Rick Ross] All my niggas quiet but we burning loud Makaveli to the max: never turn it down Mac 11 in a Benz: how you like me now? I run the city so my closet look like Nike Town Niggas talking like bitches -- is it my income? Am I fucking your bitches? Is it official? My nigga did a dime, didn't learn a thing from it Came home, in two weeks got him a 600 Get a text from the boss: you know them bricks coming Chicks at the beach house like they gonna miss something From the churches I rose, only loving the dough From the Chevy to Rolls, now it's fur on the floor Smoke an ounce of the truth: that's my fountain of youth R.I.P. to Mr. Shakur, this one is for you Nippsey Hussle and I got my nigga Stalley on it Double MG burning out in Cali on it
[Hook: Nipsey Hussle] Stained glass window in the Benzo Lost in the instrumental Keys got me sentimental
[Verse 2: Stalley] These rap books buried in gold The treasure of a million men, Versace shades trimmed in gold My life's big like them cameras explode Capture this rags to riches story that I unfold The youth fountain for the few counting Made money, but who's counting? It's hard stunting living in subsidized housing Every bag you bring though the door, dude's counting And every new girl you bring through, dude's hounding They want your youth, so they watch your moves From your pinky ring, down to how you lace your shoes Rope chains with the precious jewels The dope game had impression rules What they did with cocaine and a couple spoons Had the whole hood acting like goons Trying to be the richest, trying to the be flyest Claim to be balling, end up like Len Bias Screaming from the bottom of this fountain here, nothing but silence
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Nipsey Hussle] Laces in my blue Chucks, represent my bros first Staring at my Rollie bezel as I soul-search Run this money marathon til my soles hurt But no materials could measure what my soul's worth I wanted everything, feel like I had no choice Young niggas wishing on a star like Rose Royce Being honest, killing mamas when we sold work I made a promise, give me options and I cold-turkey Sick of sitting on the side while it's game point Recurring dream, tryna scream but ain't had no voice Crazy lady speaking tongues said it's gon' work Never vocalize my visions, actions was my spokesperson Study rich niggas' moves like my homework Sacrilegious; however, streets was my own church