Luyện nghe bài hát Young Boy

I'm a tell you what I'm bout
When I was a boy
My mama always told me take no shit
hit you then you better hit him back
So I hit the nigga it go blame
And nigga outta

Back when I was 'bout big wheels and tracks
Pop push the tornado and rode to tracks
Never stood a chance, exposed from way
Lying to the baby, it's Ajax

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

Caught a glimpse accidental it my mental
path. My role model in Lincoln Continental
Bought all my 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
When they speak of Ricky it brings tears to their eyes, see
My family got a history of
Lil' brother, big brother, mother to grandmother, it's

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

My momma didn't see it coming, my daddy was
What's my excuse? were the root
Started Yosemite Sam
the gun in palm of each hand

What I demand see
Thirteen, the gansta's lean
Lil' grim no smile, lotta cash
Daddy had the Chrystler avey

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

And a cent frozen cup laid my soul
The streets had the mold
Since fourteen push a T was chosen
like Che Gueverra, RC Tyco verses Carrera, pick

I'm a tell you what I'm talking
When I was a 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 outta line, I said, "Motherfucker's line"

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

The dangled, forty-five degree angle
Still every bit a lady but you don't wanna
Let that explain me and how I got
Young N's in the creek, me, Jon Jon and Jamal

Age fifteen, walking the hallway
Played the New Jordan's, one's on the scene
See I could afford them, living out a
Hustler on the rise, laces

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

tell you what I'm talking about
When I was a 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 outta line, I said, "Your outta line"

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