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Young Boy
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1
I'm a tell you what I'm talking bout
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When I was a young boy
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My mama always told me don't take no shit
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Motherfucker hit you then you better hit him back
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So when I hit the nigga it go blame
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And nigga outta line
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Back when I was 'bout big wheels and race tracks
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Pop push the tornado and rode to eight tracks
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Never stood a chance, exposed from way back
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Lying to the baby, saying it's Ajax
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I was about four, when I walked passed that door
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That should have been closed where I first witnessed the raw
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See in my household it was quite unique
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Playing' hide and seek you might find a key
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Car blames accidents so late branded my mental
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Hal's my role model in that Lincoln Continental
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Bought all my friends icees, it was about six
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And when he pull off I was like "See told you we was rich"
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How I turned out let it be no surprise
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When they speak of cousin Ricky it brings tears to their eyes, see
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My family got a history of hustlers
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Lil' brother, big brother, mother to grandmother, it's tradition
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I'm a tell you what I'm talking bout
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When I was a young boy
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My mama always told me don't take no shit
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Motherfucker hit you then you better hit him back
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So when I hit the nigga it go blame
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And nigga outta line, I said, "Motherfucker's outta line"
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My momma didn't see it coming, my daddy was there
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What's my excuse? Cartoons were the root
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Started with Yosemite Sam
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With the gun in palm of each hand
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What couldn't I demand see
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Thirteen, studied the gansta's lean
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Lil' grim no smile, lotta cash meanwhile
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Daddy had the Chrystler fifth avey
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Hustlers on the block cars were aerodynamic
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With ghetto paint jobs, mango M 3's
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On seventeen inch BB's, riding tough
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The bike was huffy, attention was froze
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And a twenty-five cent frozen cup laid my soul
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The streets had made the mold
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Since fourteen holding' push a T was chosen
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Rebel like Che Gueverra, RC Tyco verses Carrera, pick
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I'm a tell you what I'm talking bout
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When I was a young boy
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My mama always told me don't take no shit
48
Mother fucker hit you then you better hit him back
49
So when I hit the nigga it go blame blame
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And nigga outta line, I said, "Motherfucker's outta line"
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I think of grandma and the weight she would foot 'em
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She kinda remind me of Madame Queen in hoodlum
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Spoiled the grandkids, each one she would treasure
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Said she kept two guns and to do so was a pleasure
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The cigarette dangled, forty-five degree angle
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Still every bit a lady but you don't wanna tangle
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Let that explain me and how I got involved
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Young N's hustlers in the creek, me, Jon Jon and Jamal
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Age fifteen, walking through the hallway
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Played the New Jordan's, first one's on the scene
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See I could afford them, living out a dream
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Hustler on the rise, laces untied
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Slid pass Young N's, couldn't break my stride
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Didn't know I was knotted in street ties
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Teachers asking how and why, bitches passing by
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Oh my he so gangsta!
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I'ma tell you what I'm talking about
68
When I was a young boy
69
My mama always told me don't take no shit
70
Motherfucker hit you then you better hit him back
71
So when I hit the nigga it go blame
72
And nigga outta line, I said, "Your nigga's outta line"
73
I'ma tell you what I'm talking about
74
Outta line!
Clipse - Grindin' (Official HD Video)
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