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Growin Up in the Hood

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Growin Up in the Hood Song Lyrics

 
Compton's Most Wanted
CD  ·  DVD  ·  Sheet music
Growin Up in the Hood Wake your punk ass up
The MC Eiht's back in the muthaf**king house
Kicking the straight gansta sh*t for teh 9-1
You know what I'm saying, yea

Growing up in the hood, yea boy, 1984
Was the year my peers didn't know what was in store
A little hard head kid came abade
Time to pay my dues, learn the tricks of the trade
And at home, it's the same ass story
Mom's treat me like she don't even know me
But my younger brother's got much clout
I can't take this sh*t so I bones the hell out
And roll wit the pack of wicked muthaf**kas
No shorts are taken, we're down black brothers
A little nigga wit no problems at all
f**ked up and killed my first 8-ball
Quick up the stairs so little sucker stop looking
Stagger to the house so I can collect my whooping
But watch out 'cause a little nigga's up to no good
Growin' up in the hood



[Chorus]
Life ain't nuttin but b**ches and money
'Cause in the city you live and let die
Nutting but b**ches and money

I got hard times and realize, ?(skate)? sometimes I wonder
But it just seems that the hood could took me under
Police sweat my tip and keep harrassing
Trying to lock me up 'cause I keep on blasting
Community trying to shut me out
But the money keeps flowing and I got much clout
Wit the cluckers, the brother back street punk suckers
Try to break me out fool, you be a short muthaf**ka
Always strapping, eager to peal a cap
I set up a trap, put your foot to a nap
'Cause I grew up fast on the wrong side of the law
So watch me take 2 to your jaw
Don't enter my hood homeboy
Not a robocop, a robogansta, ready to destroy
I take chances 'cause life to be ain't no good
Growin' up in the hood

Life ain't nuttin but b**ches and money
Where I'm at if you're soft, you're lost
Nuttin but b**ches and money

1987, I'm back on the scene, out of jail, I'm legit
And I'm f**king up sh*t
I'm ready to peal a sucker's cap
And I heard that my hood was making snaps
As I precede to make my riches
Just like the neighborhood kingpin, pimp, and all these b**ches
Task force trying to roll deep
But I'm playing these punk fools cheap
Niggas rolled by and try to blast, it didn't work
I seen the bullets flying and fool, I hit the dirt
Bullets fly through the window
Hits my brother, down goes my mother
As I'm rolling, I'm hitting my switches
Looking for the punk ass, sons of b**ches
I found them, before I kill 'em, I said you f**ked up good
Got ta handle that, growin' up in the hood

[Chorus]

yea-a-a-a

A brother's on the run, I've got a hand in my stash box
Wanted 'cause I'm serving them the potent fat rocks
And my face is like a household name
Everybody warns their kids about the dope game
But I'm still makin gmy profit
And the one time just can't stop it
So I keep hiding my face
No time to waste, they got me on the chase
Now the neighborhood's on my line
'Cause some punk ass fool had drop the dime
5-0 at my doo' at 8 o'clock
Rush to the toilet so I could flush the rock
Out the backdoor, freeze, I heard a shout
Am I sho', yo I guess I got no clout
But it's murder one, I'm the victim, damn, that ain't good
Growin' up in the hood
CD  ·  DVD  ·  Sheet music
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