Growin up(Thank God for music)

Growin up,was a thing of the past
Smokin joints an drinking liquor
Was a point for a pass,damn those days..
Blast from the past,every game was a task
Games got harder as I grew up
Shit got difficult,as I realised
I was a fucking screw up
First task I was asked was to pierce some tires
Tasks got more rapid,started involving blazin fires
Eventually got to a point of been called a lier
By ma own Momma,this caused more drama
Than my own moutherfucking karma
But did't take any notice an didn't really care
Used to think about my Dad
Than realised the punk ass coward was never there
Got involved with the Harlem patriots!
Used to sell weed,sometimes wrapped
Cover used like dry shell apricots
Remember first time I touched a pistol
Was a full-loaded Desert Eagle
Touched one but never popped one,
Sure as hell am I glad
If I did pop one,God would be mad
Still nigga,I did my fair share
Sold needles to yobs an pounds stashes
To kids!
Wasn't glad I did it,but it had to be done
Otherwise it'd be my finerprints on the fucking gun
Patriots watched my back an I watched theirs
An if some bags were missin,nobody cared
Cause I knew some dudes,that sure got smashed
Smoking blunts till their heads went flat
Fucking bitches,the devils hoes,the fuck face demons
Fucked them demon bitches harder than pump action drill
Fucking bitches aka demons,WE didn't care
We just left the condoms,semen an got the fuck on out of there
Thrill my middle name,rap my way to the shadow game
I died when,a task got ambushed
Couple of skinheads game poppin their guns
We popped our guns,but I stood back
An thats when my man got shot,an I got stabbed
Crackers ran off,I can still hear their laugh
Every since than got my chest scar to remince about those days
Remember about glory,ass,smoke an our lethal ways
Just a couple of Kids growing up
Got caught up with the wrong people
Grew up,depending on the needle
Thank God,I didn't touch the fucking Desert Eagle!