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letra de thinkin’ since a youngboul - the kid br4dy

(verse 1)
act like i live in cali with the palm trees, but i’m really from philly where the trees are ugly wet and dead. the way i rap is like i was born in 1990, but in 1990 my dad’s b-lls weren’t developed yet. if i wanna be in this industry, i gotta take it step by step and breath by breath. deal with the doubters that just catch no req

what people don’t understand, is that kids my age, just go play catch. but i’ve been writing music ever since charlie murphy was found dead. my own cousin doubted me, but all hе do is play baseball and paintball. no.. he don’t play paintball. he plays ovеr the a screen on his wall

how you like them candles? they smell good? now go eat your soup. eat your campbells. your face angled

wanna grow up and gamble?l. you the type to be scared and hold on to the handle on the “jolly rancher”
hiding behind your girl thinking you gon’ fall and the coaster gonna dangle. you hear him scream? (ahh) sound like a jangle, i’m telling him not to fall and not to trample

(hook)
i’ve been waiting for my shine, all i do is grind x2

(verse 2)

a kid named brady all he wants to do is shine and grind but he wanna know the time when he gonna cry or when he gon’ die. he wanna know the time when he gotta slide, gotta ride, gotta rhyme, or make song of the year like family ties but in 2025. all he want to do is meet the kid laroi. or get a song with kdot or nas. i’ll be on a podcast with big boy. i was almost born with 2 connected heads. imagine being a rapper like that with 25 connected dreads

dance on my case, i gotta find a way to cope. (get a job kid!) man, i’m sick of this hope. told me life ain’t a game. gotta hustle and grind. so i hit a kfc. fried chicken on my mind. its 5:47 on the dot i’m looking at the clock. i had an appointment at 5:50 at the chicken shop. i took evan’s keys, i was driving, speed, played some ice t, just to get hype, i better get that chicken job. get at the shop and they like “are you brady mccann? are you the one that was texting my aunt, said” “let’s meet up and dance?” she was bad and i needed a prom. needed to hold a palm, and maybe text her mom. “get out my shop you’re not hired! this is bullsh-t, i’m way too tired. i see you in this shop again yo ass is getting wired” what you gon do? hit me with some pliers?

(hook)
well i’m still waiting for my shine, all i do is grind: x2

(verse 3)

my father disappointed in me, but i’ll buy him a crib and fans will annoy me. play this when i’m 24 and see how it accomplished i’ll be me and laroi will be like jordan and g. jordan and george. best friends making music like snoop and ice t. but that’s just a dream. but every dream i had so far came true
i had a dream that my best friend was texting underage girls and dudes. oh. ooh. love how the only people that hate my music look at a screen. hold a controller in their hand until they bleed
tell him take the mask off? found it in your dad’s drawls with the fake shlong on the side hidden behind your dad’s paul’s. ya redhead friend not from philly so tell him keep the texts white. oh that checks white? “gimme that sh-t”
it fits me better so now it’s mine. now go beg mila for a brand new ski. “baby, i’m a gangster. pretty pretty please. i wanted you for your looks, not your personality

please, mila, i’ll pay you back. right now, i don’t have any cheese”
youngboul shut up. go back to playing rainbow 6 siege. stay inside since you don’t like the heat

can’t talk about my music when you’re the one that’s attracted to feet. take a seat, and try to make an actual good beat

- the kid br4dy

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