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letra de growing up - e-40

i’m a little mannish motherf-cker
i take after my older brother
started off selling marijuana, but now i’m selling yola
here take a swig of this bourbon
[incomprehensible]
hit that, hit that, baby

aight dude, aye who who’s foolin’ right there?
who dat?
aight n-gg-, aye, get down n-gg-
aye n-gg-, get down n-gg-
aye n-gg-, get down n-gg-
sh-t!

wuh, we about seventy-five extra mail mannish
hard-headed hoodlum–ss n-gg-z
on the dope track workin’ overtime full of f-ckin ‘d’
runnin’ through somewhere in the neighborhood
of about seven-hundred thousand in illegal narcotics
generatin’ through mah street, a week
why motherf-ckers gotta ask me how i’m doin’ if i’m alright?
when a motherf-cker’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–ss
i ain’t gon’ last if i keep f-ckin’ 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

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
sh-t, i’ll be h-lla happy if i can just live to see sixteen

no life to give for that nastiness
as a rebellious disobedient–ss 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
got me sn-tchin’ up [incomprehensible], pickin’ up hits
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

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?
go straight to the [incomprehensible] and get a bad leather jacket
boy you
[incomprehensible] bankrupt

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

ah, give it to me, uhh
uhh uhh
come on, uhh
give it to me, uhh

- e 40

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