HOOK
They mad, they mad,
let ’em be mad then.
I was down bad, bills late,
still showed up with a plan then.
They mad, they mad,
hate loud, hands out.
Same ones laughed when I was stuck,
now they ask what I’m on now.
Still up, still up,
weed lit, smoke rolled.
North side, hard head,
whole gang on go mode.
They mad, they mad,
let ’em stay mad too.
I had nobody when it got dark,
now I don’t owe you.
VERSE 1
I’m a north-side problem, yea,
cold-street product, yea,
had twelve bucks, gas light on,
still told bro, “I got us,” yea.
Bank app ugly, yea,
work shirt dusty, yea,
boss man talking like I’m slow,
I’m thinking, “One day, trust me,” yea.
Mama called twice, I froze,
couldn’t tell her I was low.
Not because I don’t love her,
I just hate when it shows.
Girl said, “You been distant,”
I said, “Life been loud.”
She said, “You don’t listen,”
I said, “Bills don’t quiet down.”
That’s real, no caption,
bad mood, still active.
Old friends turned into strangers
when the money got absent.
I ain’t rich, I’m just closer,
I ain’t healed, I’m just moving.
I ain’t bragging, I’m proving
I was right when I knew it.
Had my back on the wall,
had my name in they mouth.
Now I walk in calm,
and the whole room doubts.
Like, “That him? No way.”
Yeah, same one, okay.
Same hoodie, new weight,
same pain, more pay.
HOOK
They mad, they mad,
let ’em be mad then.
I was down bad, bills late,
still showed up with a plan then.
They mad, they mad,
hate loud, hands out.
Same ones laughed when I was stuck,
now they ask what I’m on now.
Still up, still up,
weed lit, smoke rolled.
North side, hard head,
whole gang on go mode.
They mad, they mad,
let ’em stay mad too.
I had nobody when it got dark,
now I don’t owe you.
VERSE 2
Whole gang ain’t pretty, nah,
two jobs, one court date.
One got kids, one got debt,
all still trying to make more shake.
We don’t say “trauma,”
we say, “Man, this month wild.”
Roll one, laugh once,
then sit quiet for a while.
I seen love get weird
when the cash got thin.
Seen tough boys fold
when the pressure walked in.
So I don’t trust fast,
I don’t talk much.
I been let down enough
to know hope cost bucks.
But tonight we outside,
bass up, windows cracked.
Not because we made it,
cause we made it through that.
That bad week, that red bill,
that dead phone, that cold meal,
that long shift, that fake smile,
that “hold on, bro, we close still.”
They mad cause I didn’t quit,
mad cause I talk my shit.
Mad cause I took every loss
and put drums on it.
North-bred, hard-headed,
still got flaws, still reckless.
But I came from the bottom
with a full-page checklist.
No fake rich, no fake tough,
just late nights, paid cuts.
If I turn up too much,
it’s cause pain made us.
BRIDGE / CHANT
Mad-mad, stay that,
I came too far to play back.
Bad month, made that,
same black hoodie, same cap.
Mad-mad, stay sick,
whole gang lit off late rent.
Not rich yet, but we up next,
and they hate that we said it.
FINAL HOOK
They mad, they mad,
let ’em be mad then.
izayah
