Growing Up Lyrics - Tha Hall Of Game - E-40

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 

[Incomprehensible] 

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! 

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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 

Photos 

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 

Got me snatchin' 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 

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 

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 

Come on, uhh 

Give it to me, uhh