Lyrics

Ben Hill don’t love you… It hardens you
Southwest Atlanta… we learned early.

Lights out on one sixty six, still leanin’
Mustang redlinin' I must be dreamin'
Blue lights flash — police scheming
One bad night locked up — my freedom
Greenbriar raised me, hunger fed me
Mays fights, pride way too deadly
Could’ve wore chains with a D O C ID
But I flipped the grind, now you can't see me

Hittin' corners, tires bald, no fear
Lights out, redlinin' sixth gear
Fuck the future cause we right now
Heartbeat fast, don’t back down
Police siren cut through the bass
Pedal to the medal we can't stop this race
One warrant check its a wrap
Cold tray dinners stuck in a concrete trap
Mays vs Douglass — crowd on tilt
punches thrown, blood gettin' spilt
cops bussin' heads rushin' in
nother young nigga headed straight to the pen
Street made warriors making raps
Runnin' game tryna miss street traps
Ben Hill teach every nigga lessons
Either learn discipline… or learn corrections

Lights out on one sixty six, still leanin’
Mustang redlinin' I must be dreamin'
Blue lights flash — police they be scheming
One bad night, locked up — that's my freedom
Greenbrier raised me, hunger fed me
Could’ve wore chains with a D O C ID
But I flipped the grind, now you can't see me

Foot Action grind flippin shoe game
Could've caught a case a goddamn shame
whole mall smell like fries
Stealin’ Jordans watchin’ hustlers’ rise
They flip work, I flip sizes
Both spitting game tellin lies
Stockroom heat, minimum wage
But ambition burn hotter than rage
I seen niggas flash chains for clout
same niggas be in court crying out
Freaknik nights, bass too loud
Freedom thick like smoke in a crowd
Girls dancin’ on cars, cops circlin’ slow
One bad charge, no more show
walk that line thin as thread its red
Future hangin’ on what I said
One wrong move, one wrong flex
One split-second, whole life wrecked
Could be countin’ bars not money
Concrete walls ain’t never sunny
But I peeped game this system deep
Turned street hustle legit I'm clean
contracts thicker than rap sheets
Boardroom colder than cell block heat
Still Southwest — just polished the rage
Same lion heart — new cage

I seen penitentiary gates in my sleep
Cold sweat wake, can’t breathe
That could’ve been me
That could’ve been me

Lights out on one sixty six — that was then
Now I move quiet, I'm a calculated man
Ben Hill built me rough, not soft
I ain’t escape — I leveled up
State pen or corporate floor
Same hunger, just different door
Southwest Atlanta carved my name
I ain’t beat the streets… I changed the game
⸻Niggas ridin’ down one sixty-six with they lights off
Thinkin’ they invincible
Red Clay Lions
Y'all can't stop this