[Verse 1] He was a Palm Beach kid Sun in his skin Funny little dude With a beat tucked in Never had a real crew Never found that lane Headphones on Rhythm in his brain Then we packed up life Hit the Carolina road Charlotte on the map With a whole new code Now he’s at Weddington Ballin’ through the halls Trying to look hard Frontin’ for the cause Got suburban white boys And Indian kids in the mix Cafeteria jokes And laptop tricks Kick-snare, bass Little loops on repeat Whole crew cooking up heat Over half-made beats He looks at me like Dad, please don’t speak Like my whole existence Makes his cool look weak But Mama walks in And he turns real sweet Yeah, I got you, Mom Up out of his seat [Pre-Chorus] He says whatever But I know he cares Hides all the soft parts Under that stare Half little boy Half thunder machine Growing up loud In the in-between [Chorus] Seeds in the beads Boy, here comes the storm Voice drops low Then it cracks out of form Trying to be hard Trying not to feel Acting all cold While the whole thing’s real Seeds in the beads Yeah, he’s finding his name Making beats with his boys Trying to build his game Mean to his daddy Sweet to his mama The queen That’s puberty pride And a teenage machine [Verse 2] Now he walks in the kitchen Like a roast show host I’m just standing there Trying to butter my toast Dad, that fit is cooked Those shoes are weak Your haircut’s giving Retired antique Every joke got bite Every line got flame Like clowning his father Is a full-time game But I see through The long hair and the tough guy pose There’s still that kid That only his daddy knows He’s making beats Like he’s got something to prove Trying to find himself In every little groove Loops in the laptop Dreams in the room Bassline blooming Like a flower in June [Bridge] He says he don’t care But he cares so much Talks like a savage With a gentle touch Carolina’s teaching him How to begin Being hard ain’t acting Like nothing can land Being grown Doesn’t mean roasting your old man Strength ain’t cold And cool ain’t a plan Real kings Keep their hearts all clean Right in the middle Of a teenage scene [Final Chorus] Seeds in the beads Boy, here comes the storm Voice drops real low Then it cracks out of form Trying to be hard Trying not to feel Acting all cold While the whole thing’s real Seeds in the beads And he’s walking that line Little boy yesterday Now it’s big man time Hard on the outside Soft underneath Growing like thunder Through seeds in the beads
