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    Turk / Lyrics

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    "Growing Up" Lyrics

    Turk

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    Duration:00:04:15
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    Lyrics

    [Mickey]
    I ain't nothin but a hustler, I raised like that
    Pumpin gas or pumpin crack, we was paid like that
    Ol' G's taught us game, we was made like that
    Cross tha family, ya get sprayed wit a mac
    Laid flat
    My uncle was sellin crack, my father was smokin
    Me and brother didn't like tha way my mother was (?)
    So we promised to get my momma out
    Betta car, betta house
    And if daddy ain't gettin shit togetha, fuck it, a betta spouse
    I know what this ghetto bout, I live that life
    No heat, no light at tha crib at night
    Stay strapped , gat attached next to my ribs at night
    Cause them fiends'll try to steal yo life
    Muthafucka this Chicago
    Everything I live for, I die for
    Cash Money tha click I'll ride for
    Yeah, they showed me love when them label wasn't fuckin wit me
    Now tha whole workld in love wit Mickey
    Cash Money Millionaires nigga

    [Hook(Turk)]
    Growing up was hard in them project bricks
    I ain't gone even lie dawg I ain't neva had shit
    It was hard dawg wit out a father figure
    Give it up to my mom cuz she stood tall nigga

    [Christina]
    Nigga I'm from city where niggaz gang bang and shit
    Up on tha corner drinkin henny, tryna hang and shit
    I tote em quick and make chickens get over
    Tha first bitch in my gone get knocked tha fuck over
    Shit I'm not playin, them bullets gone start sprayin
    Start prayin, cuz gats gone start sprayin
    Stop panicin, stayin calm to I bomb out this ghetto
    Leg, back, arms, ice up to tha elbow
    Rock Fenni, bitches envy me up in tha ghetto
    Slimmy's pack simmy's, squeeze 50 in tha ghetto
    Tote Gucchi coats, toast toast in they thoart
    Hit tha roach, don't smoke, it'll have u senseless in tha ghetto
    Cuz niggaz will beat u senseless in tha ghetto
    I'm glad I moved my mom to tha ponds, out tha palms of tha ghetto
    True divas neva settle for tha ghetto
    Come on, and that's real Cash Money nigga

    [Hook]

    [Turk]
    Three sons and a momma, growin up was hard
    Couldn't keep up wit tha Jones, cuz we didn't have funds
    In tha summer it was hot, cuz we didn't have air
    Daddy wasn't even around like he didn't even care
    I ain't gone lie, sometimes you to get pissed off
    At my momma like it was her fault but ir wasn't at all
    Used to keep a pair of tenny's for atleast 6 months
    When they got scuffed up, we just ploished em up
    Had to be inside early, yeah i punched tha clock
    Didn't have no telephone or no cable box
    Just my momma and my brother gettin how we live
    One thing fa sho dawg we kept a meal
    Livin on welfare and my momma's pray
    Wishin that one day we gone get outta this hell
    Thinkin to myself this shit all fucked up,
    times was heard for me dawg growin
    up

    [Hook]
    This song was submitted on March 10th, 2010 and last modified on October 18th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group.
    Written by Philip Parris Lynott.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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