Growin Up In The Hood Lyrics

Growin Up In The Hood

Wake your punk as* 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 as* 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 bit*hes and money
'Cause in the city you live and let die
Nutting but bit*hes 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 bit*hes and money
Where I'm at if you're soft, you're lost
Nuttin but bit*hes and money

1987, I'm back on the scene, out of jail, I'm legit
And I'm f**king up shit
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 bit*hes
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 bit*hes
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 as* 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