Luyện nghe bài hát Growing Up

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

Hit that, hit that,

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

Wuh, we about extra mail mannish
Hard-headed niggaz
On the dope workin' overtime full of fuckin 'D'
Runnin' through somewhere in the
Of about seven-hundred in illegal narcotics
Generatin' through mah street, a
Why motherfuckers gotta ask me how I'm if I'm alright?
a motherfucker's starvin' and strugglin'
Even on my hip pretty needlin' and jugglin'
There still ain't gonna never be lovin'

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

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

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

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

No life to for that nastiness
As a disobedient-ass problem child
He's easily influenced, hangin' the wrong crowd
I'm willin' to do anything
Whatever it to make my allowance
I'm on prescription medication, off-balance
Got me snatchin' up [Incomprehensible], pickin' up
Pick-pickin' indo's and licks

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

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

But
Yes son
Tie my

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

Ear-hustlin', make like a pampered game-a-saur

When it comes to this man I'm connoisseur

I read through the punk registry in the report

I come off dat
Grew up around talkers
A con artists

Go straight to the and get a bad leather jacket
Boy you
bankrupt

Like you when I was
But I got my together and I bettered myself as I got older
Na-uh, now I entertain, a sss-uh, rover
Street smarts with a and a diploma

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

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

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

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