I got a call from my homies and they said wassup man
ct the rec center we could reenact Space Jam
So I ask hopped on my bike and I rode no hands
I hit a pothole and I took a hard slam

3rd grade birthday— mighta been 4th
Yup, one of my buddies got his hands on a porn
We waited late night not to push the luck
Put it on my TV and my mans threw up

7th grade, I was coolin out with my friends
Plus a fine bitty that a wanted to impress
I bounced off a yoga ball, landed on my head
cnd I spent the whole night in a hospital bed

It's the typical tale fam, I'm super lit
I make bad choices like a fugitive
I'll admit it might sound like some stupid shit
But all the cool kids are doin it

cll the cool kids are doin it
cll the cool kids are doin it
cll the cool kids are doin it
cll the cool kids are doin it

Yo! So there I was, it was me and my cuz
Running from some dummy cruising in a lifted truck
Yup the gig was up, he bout to squash my kinfolk
I never shoulda thrown that snowball through his window

But I had to, it felt so good
Being a bad boy, setting fires in the woods
Mayhem and mischief was the name of the game
Once I got a little taste, my life was never the same

Tabasco on the tongue or maybe soap up in the mouth
Was the punishment for cursing when we up in Matt's house
So we just broke out, finding trouble on the double
Man this suburban life feels like I'm living in a bubble

Thank the lord for my bike, I need a getaway quick
But this freak down the street thought that he was the shit
Cracked his whole skull open tryna do a backflip
Spouting all the cool kids are doing it

cll the cool kids are doin it
cll the cool kids are doin it
cll the cool kids are doin it
cll the cool kids are doin it
cll the cool kids are doin it
cll the cool kids are doin it
cll the cool kids are doin it
cll the cool kids are doin it

Im a rare breed
Make the kick in the snare bleed
Resort to plan b
Like a pair of spare keys
Or a hair piece
You know, playing for keeps
I'm outta this world
Like something that an alien eats

I'm unidentified
Rappers stepping to me I call it genocide
You been drinkin liquor till ya
Got a lot of gin inside

Many men have died
So have I a few times
From the peer pressure
Of front side and back nines

Now I kick back
Roll a sack and stack dimes
Roll another joint
That's the point of fast times
Rhymes that would be
c lot cooler kid
If you rap like Jarv
""He's a fugitive""

No doubt
Finish the Guinness I'm too stout
See me swimmin in these women
I'm hooked like 2 trout
Pick a new route
I know it's Ludacris
But all the cool kids are doin it

cll the cool kids are doin it
cll the cool kids are doin it
cll the cool kids are doin it
cll the cool kids are doin it
cll the cool kids are doin it
cll the cool kids are doin it
cll the cool kids are doin it
cll the cool kids are doin it