Luyện nghe bài hát Growing Up

I'm a little mannish
I after my older brother
Started off marijuana, but now I'm selling yola
take a swig of this bourbon

Hit that, hit that,

Aight dude, aye who foolin' right there?
Who
Aight nigga, aye, get nigga
Aye nigga, get down
Aye nigga, get down
Shit!

Wuh, we seventy-five extra mail mannish
Hard-headed hoodlum-ass
On the dope track overtime full of fuckin 'D'
Runnin' through in the neighborhood
Of about seven-hundred thousand in illegal
through mah street, a week
Why motherfuckers gotta ask me how I'm doin' if I'm
a motherfucker's starvin' and strugglin'
Even on my hip much needlin' and jugglin'
still ain't gonna never be enough lovin'

I'm tired of rippin' and runnin', and duckin' bullets
I know my is comin', death is on me bad
The walls is closin' in, I I had a dad
But left I was ten, so mom's is all I had
And she was there for me until I ran away the pad
And now she me and she don't claim me
Reverend wouldja put some oil on my head
I end up dead, gall bladder full of lead, scared
I guess a hard-head a soft-ass
I ain't gon' last if I fuckin' with this fast life

He would grow up to be but a hoodlum
Or either in jail, or someone shoot him, uh
He would up to be nothin' but a hoodlum
Or either in jail, or someone shoot him

He grow up to be nothin' but a hoodlum
Or in jail, or someone would shoot him, uh
He would grow up to be but a hoodlum
Or either in jail, or someone shoot him

Ah, I page my ties even though the filthy
Don't go to church, because I feel guilty
Nope, I don't wanna die 'cause when the preacher preach the
I be ready to cry up in the of Pentecostal
I think I'ma make it to see twenty-five
I wash my hands and come clean
Shit, I'll be happy if I can just live to see sixteen

No life to give for nastiness
As a rebellious problem child
He's influenced, hangin' around the wrong crowd
I'm willin' to do anything
Whatever it takes to my allowance
I'm on prescription medication, off-balance
Got me up [Incomprehensible], pickin' up hits
Pick-pickin' indo's and pullin'

He would grow up to be nothin' but a
Or either in jail, or someone shoot him, uh
He grow up to be nothin' but a hoodlum
Or either in jail, or someone shoot him

He would grow up to be nothin' but a
Or either in jail, or someone shoot him, uh
He would up to be nothin' but a hoodlum
Or either in jail, or would shoot him

But
Yes son
Tie my

Lace me up, me up
a tow-track, man

Ear-hustlin', make a pampered suck-up game-a-saur

When it comes to this thang man I'm

I through the punk registry in the robb report

I off like dat
Grew up slick talkers
A po-po-poppin' con

Go to the [Incomprehensible] and get a bad leather jacket
Boy you
bankrupt

Like you I was younger
But I got my life together and I myself as I got older
Na-uh, now I entertain, a sss-uh, a-smeb
smarts with a degree and a diploma

He would grow up to be but a hoodlum
Or either in jail, or someone shoot him, uh
He would up to be nothin' but a hoodlum
Or either in jail, or someone would him

He would grow up to be nothin' but a
Or either in jail, or someone shoot him, uh
He grow up to be nothin' but a hoodlum
Or either in jail, or someone would him

He grow up to be nothin' but a hoodlum
Or either in jail, or someone shoot him, uh
He would grow up to be nothin' but a
Or in jail, or someone would shoot him

He would grow up to be nothin' but a
Or either in jail, or someone shoot him, uh
He would grow up to be nothin' but a
Or either in jail, or someone would him

Ah, it to me, uhh
Uhh uhh
on, uhh
it to me, uhh