E-40Growing Up - I'm a little mannish motherfucker I take after my older brother Started off selling marijuana, but now I'm selling yola Here take a swig of this bourbon Hit that, hit that, baby Aight dude, aye who who's foolin' right there? Who dat? Aight nigga, aye, get down nigga Aye nigga, get down nigga Aye nigga, get down nigga Shit! Wuh, we about seventy-five extra mail mannish Hard-headed hoodlum-ass niggaz On the dope track workin' overtime full of fuckin 'D' Runnin' through somewhere in the neighborhood Of about seven-hundred thousand in illegal narcotics Generatin' through mah street, a week Why motherfuckers gotta ask me how I'm doin' if I'm alright? When a motherfucker's starvin' and strugglin' Even on my hip pretty much needlin' and jugglin' There still ain't gonna never be enough lovin' I'm tired of rippin' and runnin', dodgin' and duckin' bullets I know my time is comin', death is on me bad The walls is closin' in, I wish I had a dad But left when I was ten, so mom's is all I had And she was there for me until I ran away from the pad And now she disowned me and she don't claim me Reverend wouldja put some blessin' oil on my head Before I end up dead, gall bladder full of lead, scared I guess a hard-head make a soft-ass I ain't gon' last if I keep fuckin' with this fast life He would grow up to be nothin' but a hoodlum Or either in jail, or someone would shoot him, uh He would grow up to be nothin' but a hoodlum Or either in jail, or someone would shoot him He would grow up to be nothin' but a hoodlum Or either in jail, or someone would shoot him, uh He would grow up to be nothin' but a hoodlum Or either in jail, or someone would shoot him Ah, I page my ties even though the money's filthy Don't wanna go to church, because I feel guilty Nope, I don't wanna die 'cause when the preacher preach the Gospel I be ready to cry up in the Church of Pentecostal I don't think I'ma make it to see twenty-five 'Til I wash my hands and come clean Shit, I'll be hella happy if I can just live to see sixteen No life to give for that nastiness As a rebellious disobedient-ass problem child He's easily influenced, hangin' around the wrong crowd I'm willin' to do almost anything Whatever it takes to make my allowance I'm on prescription medication, chemically off-balance Pick-pickin' indo's and pullin' licks He would grow up to be nothin' but a hoodlum Or either in jail, or someone would shoot him, uh He would grow up to be nothin' but a hoodlum Or either in jail, or someone would shoot him He would grow up to be nothin' but a hoodlum Or either in jail, or someone would shoot him, uh He would grow up to be nothin' but a hoodlum Or either in jail, or someone would shoot him But daddy? Yes son Tie my shoes Okay Lace me up, hook me up Like a tow-track, man
Aight Ear-hustlin', make like a pampered suck-up game-a-saur What? When it comes to this thang man I'm connoisseur Connoisseur I read through the punk registry in the robb report What? I come off like dat Grew up around slick talkers A po-po-poppin' con artists What? Boy you Like you when I was younger But I got my life together and I bettered myself as I got older Na-uh, now I entertain, a sss-uh, a-smeb rover
Street smarts with a degree and a diploma He would grow up to be nothin' but a hoodlum Or either in jail, or someone would shoot him, uh He would grow up to be nothin' but a hoodlum Or either in jail, or someone would shoot him He would grow up to be nothin' but a hoodlum Or either in jail, or someone would shoot him, uh He would grow up to be nothin' but a hoodlum Or either in jail, or someone would shoot him He would grow up to be nothin' but a hoodlum Or either in jail, or someone would shoot him, uh He would grow up to be nothin' but a hoodlum Or either in jail, or someone would shoot him He would grow up to be nothin' but a hoodlum Or either in jail, or someone would shoot him, uh He would grow up to be nothin' but a hoodlum Or either in jail, or someone would shoot him Ah, give it to me, uhh Uhh uhh
