Luyện nghe bài hát Young Boy

I'm a tell you what I'm bout
I was a young boy
My mama told me don't take no shit
Motherfucker hit you you better hit him back
So I hit the nigga it go blame
And nigga line

when I was 'bout big wheels and race tracks
Pop push the tornado and to eight tracks
Never stood a chance, exposed way back
to the baby, saying it's Ajax

I was about four, when I walked passed door
That should have been closed where I witnessed the raw
See in my it was quite unique
Playing' hide and seek you might a key

Caught a glimpse accidental it my mental
path. My role in that Lincoln Continental
all my friends icees, it was about six
And when he pulled off, I was like "See you we was rich"

How I out let it be no surprise
they speak of cousin Ricky it brings tears to their eyes, see
My family got a of hustlers
Lil' brother, big brother, mother to grandmother, tradition

I'm a you what I'm talking bout
When I was a boy
My mama always told me don't take no
Motherfucker hit you you better hit him back
So I hit the nigga it go blame
And nigga outta line, I said, "Motherfucker's line"

My momma didn't see it coming, my was there
my excuse? Cartoons were the root
Started with Sam
With the gun in of each hand

couldn't I demand see
Thirteen, studied the lean
Lil' grim no smile, cash meanwhile
had the Chrystler fifth avey

Hustlers on the block cars aerodynamic
With ghetto jobs, mango M 3's
On seventeen inch BB's, riding
The bike was huffy, was froze

And a twenty-five cent frozen cup my soul
The had made the mold
Since holding' push a T was chosen
Rebel like Che Gueverra, RC Tyco Carrera, pick

I'm a tell you I'm talking bout
I was a young boy
My mama always me don't take no shit
Mother fucker hit you then you better hit him
So I hit the nigga it go blame blame
And nigga line, I said, "Motherfucker's outta line"

I think of and the weight she would foot 'em
She kinda remind me of Madame Queen in
Spoiled the grandkids, each one she treasure
she kept two guns and to do so was a pleasure

The cigarette dangled, forty-five degree
Still every bit a lady but you don't tangle
Let explain me and how I got involved
Young N's hustlers in the creek, me, Jon Jon and

Age fifteen, through the hallway
Played the New Jordan's, first on the scene
See I could afford them, out a dream
Hustler on the rise, untied

Slid pass Young N's, break my stride
Didn't I was knotted in street ties
Teachers how and why, bitches passing by
Oh my he so gangsta!

I'ma tell you I'm talking about
When I was a boy
My always told me don't take no shit
Motherfucker hit you you better hit him back
So when I hit the nigga it go
And nigga outta line, I said, "Your nigga's line"

I'ma tell you I'm talking about
line!