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    "Young Boy" Lyrics


    You out of line (*repeated throughout song*)

    [Chorus: Pharell]
    Mmm I'ma tell you what I'm talkin bout
    When I was a young boy
    My mama always told me don't take no shit
    Motherfucker hit you then you better hit 'em back
    So when I hit the nigga it could Breeeeeak
    Nigga out of line

    [Verse 1: Malice]
    Back when I was 'bout Big Wheels and race tracks

    Pops pushed a Tornado and rolled to 8 tracks
    Never stood a chance, exposed from way back
    Lyin' to the baby sayin its Ajax
    I was 'bout 4 when I walked past that door
    That shoulda been closed where I first witnessed the raw
    See in my household it was quite unique
    Playin hide and seek, you might find a key
    Car glimpse accidentally, branded my mental
    Pals my role model in that Lincoln Continental
    Bought all my friends Icees, it was 'bout 6
    And when he pulled off I was like, See told ya we was rich
    How I turned out let it be no surprise
    When they speak of cousin Ricky it brings tears to my eyes
    See, my family got a history of hustlers
    Lil' brother, big brother, mother to grandmother
    Its tradition


    [Verse 2: Pusha T]
    My mama didn't see it comin, my daddy was there
    What's my excuse
    Cartoons were the root
    Started with Yosimite Sam with the gun in
    palm of the hand, what couln't I demand
    See, thirteen
    Studied the gangsta's lean
    Low brim, no smile
    Lotta cash meanwhile
    Daddy had the Chrysler Fifth Avey
    Hustlers on the blocks cars were aero-dynamie
    With ghetto paint jobs, Mango M threes
    Seventeen inch B-Bs ridin' tough
    Tha bike was Huffy, attention was froze
    In a twenty five cent frozen cup laid my soul
    Tha streets had me to mold

    Since fourteen holdin, Pusha T was chosen
    Rebel like Shake Rivera
    Tyco RC versus Carrera


    [Verse 3: Malice]
    I think of grandma and the way she would foot 'em
    She kinda remind me of Madam Queen and Hoodlum
    Sport the grandkids, each one she would treasure
    Said she kept two guns and to do so was a pleasure
    The cigarette dangle forty-five degree angle
    Sitll every bit a lady but you don't wanna tangle
    Let that explain me and how I got involved
    Young'ns hustlin in the creep, me, Jon-Jon and Jamal
    [Pusha T]
    Age Fifteen
    Walkin through the hallway, plate the new Jordans
    First ones on the scene
    See I could afford 'em, Livin out a dream
    Hustler on the rise, laces untied
    Slid past young'ns, couldn't break my stride
    Didn't know I was knotted in street ties
    Teachers askin' how and why
    Bitches passin' by
    Oh my, he's so gangsta

    This song was last modified on November 23rd, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc..
    Written by Chad Hugo, Terrence Thornton, Gene Thornton Jr, Pharrell Williams.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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