Role Model Lyrics – YoungBoy Never Broke Again

YoungBoy Never Broke Again redefines the anti-hero anthem in “Role Model,” where trap confessions crash into melodic defiance—a low-rider cruise through heartbreak and hustle, unfiltered and unbreakable.

“Role Model” digs into the duality of triumph and trap scars, its verses threading tales of sippin’ lean with the crew, dodging the profiling gaze of the world, and admitting you’re no saint for the kids looking up. The mood teeters on that razor edge of vulnerability and venom: introspective hooks give way to boasts of million-dollar nights and dead bodies in the rearview, all wrapped in a trap-soul hybrid that’s equal parts confessional diary and battle cry. Production from Hajo, Tom Dellow, 2x.samuel, and D-Roc keeps it atmospheric yet grounded—sparse hi-hats and rumbling bass that let YoungBoy’s voice, half-sung and half-spat, carry the weight without overwhelming the intimacy.

Slime Cry, YoungBoy’s ninth studio album and a 30-track odyssey through the slime life, frames “Role Model” as a pivotal chapter in his ongoing saga of resilience amid chaos. Clocking in at over an hour and a half, it weaves themes of redemption, brotherhood, and the grind’s emotional toll—think gritty reflections on prison shadows, lost loves, and unbreakable bonds, all laced with that signature slime slang that’s become his crew’s secret code. The artistic vision here is pure catharsis: YoungBoy channeling house arrest isolation into expansive soundscapes, blending hard-hitting trap with soulful undertones to map the highs of riches and the lows of paranoia. Standouts like “Teary Eyes” with Burna Boy and “Devil Go Away” featuring Jelly Roll add global flair, but it’s the solo cuts like this one that hit closest to home, proving his pen’s still the sharpest tool in the shed.

Unleashed yesterday, January 16, 2026, via Never Broke Again LLC and Motown Records, Slime Cry has already shattered streaming records in its first 24 hours, with early numbers pushing toward a billion global plays. The rollout’s been stealthy yet seismic—teaser clips on Instagram hinting at cinematic visuals, and a Spotify pre-save campaign that mobilized the fanbase like a street mobilization. No massive promo blitz needed; YoungBoy’s drops are events unto themselves, and this album’s no exception, especially with “Role Model” surfacing as the emotional linchpin amid the flex-heavy barrage.

Now 26 and navigating legal tempests that would crush lesser souls, YoungBoy’s in a phase of fearless experimentation—trading some of the melodic polish of his The Last Slimeto days for a rougher, more narrative edge that feels like spoken-word poetry over beats. “Role Model” embodies that shift: it’s growth masked as confession, a track that owns the “low-life, top shotta” paradox while humanizing the monster the media loves to vilify. In a discography that’s birthed over 100 projects, from teen mixtapes to platinum benchmarks like Sincerely, Kentrell, this song stakes its claim as a bridge—raw enough for the streets, resonant enough for the charts, underscoring why he’s rap’s most prolific pulse-taker.

Layered with nods to fleeting highs—”Chanel, Chanel, Celine, Celine”—and the pull of real connection, “Role Model” isn’t just a flex; it’s a mirror for anyone chasing dreams in devil’s territory. As Slime Cry unravels beefs, blessings, and burdens across its marathon runtime, it cements YoungBoy’s evolution from prodigy to poet of the precarious, dropping truths that stick like family tattoos.

With the album’s buzz building toward Grammy whispers and tour rumors, “Role Model” stands as a testament to survival’s soundtrack—proof that even gangsters bleed poetry.