Lyrics
Like, you, he seen come along way
Like, he seen you come along
Like, boy, I see you
You shinning like new money
Shine like new money
You doing good for yourself, huh?
I'm proud of you, boy
But, that's the energy you know?

Candy cane
Jump rope
Cornbread and pig lip
Hot fries
Holy water
Superdome cheese dip (that's right)
Perched on da fence (uh huh)
Po'boys in da yard
Don't mess with my rug
Or my season salt, boy

I know where he be, know where he come from
Hot boy, taking over for the twenty-two thousands
Uh, na na, na na, No Limit soldier
Home is where the heart stay
Where the Pelicans and the Saints play
The eagle land on Frenchmen
And the sparrow land on Sunday (I know he watching over me)

When Pop Pop wouldn't give me ends (wouldn't give me ends)
Grandma was a ATM (was a ATM)
Buying bubble gum and M&M's (M&M's)
I just had to rot my teeth out
Basketball under the treehouse
Too short to catch a rebound
Maybe that wasn't my callin'
But you could still see me ballin'

(See me ba-ball)
You could still see me ballin'
(See me ba-ball)
From New York down to New Orleans
(See me ba-ball)
Could still see me ballin'
(See me ba-ball)
You could still see (yeah, yeah, yeah)

Popeyes when they had that red white and blue bag
Puttin' on that Sportin' Waves underneath my durag
If yo' line pushed back, or your shoes dirty
Don't come around here, best stay home, heard me?
It's the time of dem naturals, Priestly, Satchel
Bayou Maharajahs, Nat King and Satchmo
If you see him then and even if you see him now
It's the same Jon Jon
With that same gold crown, you heard me?

When Pop Pop wouldn't give me ends (wouldn't give me ends)
Grandma was a ATM (was a ATM)
Buying bubble gum and M&M's (M&M's)
I just had to rot my teeth out
Basketball under the treehouse
Too short to catch a rebound
Maybe that wasn't my callin'
But you could still see me ballin'

(See me ba-ball)
You could still see me ballin'
(See me ba-ball)
New York down to New Orleans
(See me ba-ball)
Could still see me ballin' (yeah)
(See me ba-ball)
You could still see (go ahead P.J.)

I can still remember the mornings (yeah, yeah)
Breakfast cooking, half asleep and still yawnin'
Yeah, yeah, yeah
It's time for Zulu so we better get goin'
No place like New Orleans, yeah
Ayy, I said I'm far from home but I always represent, yeah, huh
I thought I had so much time, I don't know where it went
But now that I'm grown I know what it all meant, ayy
No place like New Orleans, yeah, yeah

(Trombone Shorty and them boys)
(Haha)

You could still see me ballin'
You could still see me ballin'
You could still see me ballin'

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Writer(s): Jahaan Sweet, Jonathan Batiste, Paul Morton, Sunny Levine, Troy Andrews




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ADULTHOOD
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