Teddy Yo Till I Go

[Intro]
Yeah
Turn my mic up
Teddy Yo
Legend talk
[Verse 1]
You came late to the gate, we was breaking the locks
You was posing for the lens, we was racing the cops
You was hashtag hope, tryna trend on the net
We was rapping in the dark, momma praying in stress
He built floors from the dust, you just sleep on the couch
You just tweet, then delete, he put teeth in your mouth
You say you “made it famous”? That’s a wild little pitch
You just cash on the culture that he carried through the ditch
You talk charts, he talk scars, that’s a different file
He went door to door with discs, you just chasing a style
You just copy every wave, tryna surf for a pic
He the face of the fight, you the face of a skit
[Chorus]
I ride for Teddy Yo, say it loud (Teddy!)
First flame in the cold, draw a crowd (Teddy!)
You just talk like a king, where the crown? (where it at?)
If respect got a throne, he hold it down
I ride for Teddy Yo, say it loud (Teddy!)
Stone step, brick by brick, from the ground (from the ground)
You just claim that you built what he found
If the mic got a father, that’s the sound
[Verse 2]
You was still in the class, tryna look like a star
He was scribbling in a note, turning hurt into bars
You just came to the party when the plates got full
He was starving in the corner, still calling it fuel
You a remix rumor, he an era, a stage
You a caption in a phone, he a chapter, a page
You be begging for a tag, tryna stretch that reach
He put language in the beat, gave the street that speech
You want credit for a storm that you watched from a chair
He was soaked in the rain, tryna breathe through the fear
You just flex in a fit, he got sweat in his shirt
You a name on the list, he the name in the dirt
[Chorus]
I ride for Teddy Yo, say it loud (Teddy!)
First flame in the cold, draw a crowd (yeah)
You just talk like a king, where the crown? (where it at?)
If respect got a throne, he hold it down
I ride for Teddy Yo, say it loud (Teddy!)
Stone step, brick by brick, from the ground
You just claim that you built what he found
If the mic got a father, that’s the sound

rap, Hard East African trap-rap: dark, detuned piano loop, gritty 808s, sharp snare, and chopped vocal hits. Male vocals, aggressive cadence with double-time pockets on punchlines. Hook opens up with stacked gang shouts, verses stay tight and menacing. Final hook rides out with ad-libs and drops for crowd call-and-response., hip hop