The Teens In-between - JohnnieB

Lyrics

( Johnnie B On The Beat ) I’m old enough to know better, young enough to still do it, Got a grown-man conscience with a teenage influence. Life handed me a mirror and I damn near threw it, ’Cause the truth looked grown but the pain looked stupid. I got curfew scars with a deadline brain, Report-card fear mixed with grown-man shame. Still learning how to lose without placing blame, Still learning every lesson don’t come with a name. I’m somewhere between detention and a damn 9-to-5, Between “go play outside” and “go provide.” Between childhood dreams and adult pride, Between wanting to disappear and wanting to arrive. I’m the training wheels snapped off a dirt-bike soul, The kid with the mouth but the man with control. The joke in the hallway with a heart getting old, The smart-ass grin hiding shit untold. Got Big John telling me, “Stand up straight,” Little Johnnie telling me, “Break that gate.” JohnnieB stuck with both on his plate, Trying to grow up without losing his face. I don’t fit the playground, don’t fit the boardroom, Don’t fit the old me, don’t fit the new room. I’m a half-built house with a full-ass moon, Still making noise while I’m finding my tune. They say maturity comes when the wild shit leaves, But I still got rebellion tucked under my sleeve. I still got youth that refuses to grieve, And a grown side begging me to finally breathe. Hook We’re the in-between teens, caught in the seam, Too damn grown for a childish dream. Too damn young for a king-sized grief, Still trying to stand on our own two feet. We’re the in-between teens, stuck in between, Half reckless heart, half grown routine. Still got wounds that the world can’t see, But we turn that shit into identity. Verse 2 I got lunch-table laughter with a tax-form stare, A yearbook heart with a bill in the air. I got old-school fear and a new-school prayer, Trying to act like I’m fine when I’m barely there. I used to think grown meant having it handled, Till life lit stress like a crooked-ass candle. Now I carry old pain like a backpack sample, And still walk clean through a world full of scandals. I’m not little enough to get excused for the mess, Not grown enough yet to make sense of the stress. So I wear both ages like a chain on my chest, One side says run, one says do your best. That’s the paradox sitting in a teenage frame, A boy with the spark and a man with the flame. A kid who still laughs when the world gets strange, A man who knows laughter don’t cancel pain. I’m the middle generation of my own damn mind, Old enough to remember, too young to rewind. Trying to take every mistake and make it refined, Trying to make every scar sign on the line. They say, “Grow up,” like it happens overnight, Like you wake up healed when you turn on the light. Like the child in your chest don’t still pick fights, Like the man in your head don’t still lose sight. So I’m learning balance with a foul-ass mouth, Learning faith when the doubt gets loud. Learning how to build when the floor falls out, Learning who the fuck I am right now. Hook We’re the in-between teens, caught in the seam, Too damn grown for a childish dream. Too damn young for a king-sized grief, Still trying to stand on our own two feet. We’re the in-between teens, stuck in between, Half reckless heart, half grown routine. Still got wounds that the world can’t see, But we turn that shit into identity. Verse 3 This ain’t boys’ night, this is boy meets burden, This is youth getting loud while the man keeps learning. This is old innocence slowly burning, This is a grown-up soul still soul-searching. I’m not a kid, but I still carry the kid, Still remember every dumb-ass thing that I did. Still remember when the world felt big, Before responsibility came and flipped that shit. I’m not fully grown, but I’m growing through pain, Still got sunshine mixed with rain. Still got joy with a little bit of rage, Still got God on a half-torn page. Big John is the man I’m trying to become, Little Johnnie is the boy still biting his tongue. JohnnieB is the age where both sides run, The middle of the moon and the morning sun. So don’t call me childish when I laugh through hell, Don’t call me grown when I’m still healing myself. Don’t call me lost when I’m changing shells, I’m just between versions and doing it well. The in-between teens got a grown-ass mission, Young heart beating with an old suspicion. Still rebellious, still chasing vision, Still turning pain into transition. Hook We’re the in-between teens, caught in the seam, Too damn grown for a childish dream. Too damn young for a king-sized grief, Still trying to stand on our own two feet. We’re the in-between teens, stuck in between, Half reckless heart, half grown routine. Still got wounds that the world can’t see, But we turn that shit into identity.