When I was a young boy, my mama always told me don't take no shit Motherfucker hit you, think you better hit him back So when I hit the nigga, I go blam! Nigga outta line Back when I was bout big wheels and racetracks Pop pushed the Tornado and rode to 8 tracks Never stood a chance, exposed from way back Lying to the baby and saying it's Ajax I was bout 4 when I walked past that door That should've been closed where I first witnessed the roar See in my household, it was quite unique Playing hide and seek, you might find a key card glimpse Accidentally branded my mental pals my role model In that Lincoln Continental, bought all my friends ICs It was bout 6 and when he pulled off, I was like, see told you we was rich How I turned out, let it be no surprise When they speak of cousin Ricky, it brings tears to the eyes See my family got a history of hustlers Little brother, big brother, mother to grandmother It's tradition When I was a young boy My mama always told me don't take no shit Motherfucker hit you, you better hit him back So when I hit the nigga, I go blam! Nigga outta line Said Motherfucker outta line My mama didn't see it coming, my daddy was there What's my excuse? Cartoons with a roof Started with Yosemite Sam, with a gun in Palmer v. Tan, what couldn't I demand See, 13, studied a gangster's lean Low brim, no smile, lotta cash meanwhile Daddy had the Chrysler Fifth Ave Hustlers on the blocks, cars were aerodynamic With ghetto paint jobs, Mango M3s 17-inch BBs, ridin' tough The bike was huffy, attention was froze In a 25-cent frozen cup laid my soul The streets had made the mold Since 14, Holden, Pusha T was chosen Rebel like Sheik Rivera R.C. Tycho v. Carreras Pick When I was a young boy My mama always told me don't take no shit Motherfucker hit you, think you better hit him back So when I hit the nigga, I go blam! Nigga outta line Said Motherfucker outta line I think of Grandma and the way she would put him She kinda remind me of Madam Queen in Hoodlum Sport the grandkids, each one she would treasure Said she kept two guns and to do so was a pleasure The cigarette dangle, 45-degree angle So every bit a lady, but you don't wanna tangle Let that explain me and how I got involved Youngins hustlin' in the creek, me, John, John, and Jamal Age 15, walkin' through the hallway Played the New Jordans, first ones on the scene See, I could afford them, livin' out a dream Hustler on the rise, laces untied Slid past youngins, couldn't break my stride Didn't know I was naughtier than street tides Teachers askin' how and why, bitches passin' by Oh my, he's so gangsta When I was a young boy My mama always told me don't take no shit Motherfucker hit you, you better hit him back So when I hit the nigga that go blam The nigga out of line Your nigga's out of line I'll tell you what I'm talkin' about Out of line