Luyện nghe bài hát Young Boy

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 then you better hit him
So I hit the nigga it go blame
And outta line

when I was 'bout big wheels and race tracks
Pop push the and rode to eight tracks
Never stood a chance, from way back
Lying to the baby, saying Ajax

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

a glimpse accidental it branded my mental
path. My role model in Lincoln Continental
Bought all my icees, it was about six
And when he off, I was like "See told you we was rich"

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

I'm a tell you I'm talking bout
I was a young 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 outta line, I said, "Motherfucker's outta line"

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

What I demand see
Thirteen, studied the gansta's
Lil' grim no smile, cash meanwhile
Daddy had the Chrystler fifth

Hustlers on the block cars were
With ghetto paint jobs, M 3's
On inch BB's, riding tough
The bike was huffy, was froze

And a twenty-five cent cup laid my soul
The streets had made the
Since fourteen holding' push a T was
Rebel Che Gueverra, RC Tyco verses Carrera, pick

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

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

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

Age fifteen, walking the hallway
the New Jordan's, first one's on the scene
See I could them, living out a dream
on the rise, laces untied

Slid pass Young N's, couldn't 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
I was a young boy
My mama always told me take no shit
Motherfucker hit you then you better hit him
So when I hit the it go blame
And nigga outta line, I said, "Your nigga's line"

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