E-40 - Growing Up Lyrics
Im a little mannish mother*****erI take after my older brotherStarted off selling marijuana, but now Im selling yola..[e-40]Here take a swig of this bourbonHit that, hit that babyAight dude.. ay who whos foolin right there? (who dat? )Aight nigga ay get down nigga .. {*gunfire starts going off*}Ay nigga get down nigga! ay nigga get down nigga (shit!)Wuh, we aboutSeventy-five extra mail mannish hard-headed hoodlum-ass niggazOn the dopetrack workin overtime full of *****in d (d!)Runnin through somewhere in the neighborhoodOf about seven-hundred thousand in illegal narcoticsGeneratin through mah street, a weekWhy mother*****ers gotta ask me how Im doin if Im alright?When a mother*****ers starvin and strugglinEven on my hip pretty much needlin and jugglinThere still aint gonna never be enough lovin!Im tired of rippin and runnin, dodgin and duckin bulletsI know my time is comin - death is on me badThe walls is closin in, I wish I had a dadBut left when I was ten, so moms is all I hadAnd she was there for me until I ran away from the padAnd now she disowned me and she dont claim meReverend wouldja put some blessin oil on my headBefore I end up dead, gall bladder full of lead - scaredI guess a hard-head make a soft-ass (? ? )I aint gon last if I keep *****in with this fast lifeChorus: e-40 and lil e (repeat 2x)He would grow up to be nothin but a hoodlumOr either in jail, or someone would shoot him, uh(he would grow up to be nuttin but a hoodlumOr either in jail, or someone would shoot him)[e-40]Ah, I page my ties even though the moneys filthyDont wanna go to church, because I feel guiltyNope - I dont wanna die - cause when the preacher preach the gospelI be ready to cry - up in the church of pentecostalI dont think ima make it to see twenty-fiveTil I wash my hands and come cleanShit Ill be hella happy if I can just live to see sixteenNo life to give for that nastinessAs a rebellious disobedient-ass problem childHes easily influenced - hangin around the wrong crowdIm willin to do almost anything,Whatever it takes to make my allowanceIm on prescription medication, chemically off-balanceGot me snatchin up (? ? ), pickin up hitsPick-pickin indos (dos), and pullin licksChorus[lil e]But daddy? (yes son) tie my shoes (okay) lace me up (uh)Hook me up, like a tow-track maaaaan (aight)Ear-hustlin, make like a pampered suck-up game-a-saur (what? )When it comes to this thang man Im conniseur (conniseur)I read through the punk registry in the robb report (what? )I come off like datGrew up around slick talkers (ah)A pa-a poppin con artists (what? )Go straight to the (? ? ) and get a bad leather jacket(? ? ) (? ? ) bankrupt![e-40]Boy you..Like you when I was youngerBut I got my life together and I bettered myself as I got olderNa-uh now I entertain (entertain) a sss-uh, a-smeb rover (a smeb rover)Street smarts with a degree and a diplomaChorus 2x[e-40]Ah give it to me, uhh..Uhh..Uhh..Come on, uhh..Give it to me, uhh..
