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"Grew Up a Screw Up" Lyrics

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(B.I.G.)
I grew up a fucking screw up
Got introduced to the game
To the game and fucking blew up
(x4)

Luda:

(Dedicated to all my hustlers that's
A product of they environment
Whether getting money legally or illegally
We gotta do what we gotta do to survive, man, Woo
Yea, grew up a screw up baby, got introduced to the game
I ain't took a breath yet, lets go)

Ever since I was an embryo waitin to shape up and ship out
Something in my brain said, 'wake up and kick out'
Roberta and Wayne stayed up and flipped out
Cause when I came I was draped up and dripped out
Snip the umbilical, spit the government chip out
Peace up, A-Town down, and then I dipped out (Peace!)
And oh my gosh, the Oshkosh was picked out
I slipped in, even my baby stroller was tricked out (Woo)
Somebody get him, the lil nigga's outta control
Put a little bitta rum in my bottle,
I dream about diamonds and gold, gold, gold
Took grown from an infant to toddler was effervescent
The essence of adolescence got my body feeling fresh'n fresh'n fresh'n
And it was a blessin to rhyme and start reppin
I was the best in my section
With flows harder than erections
Still the best, but I'm grown with more range than a Texan
I'm a heavy weight, you niggas is lighter than my complexion

Chorus:
(B.I.G.)
I grew up a fucking screw up
Got introduced to the game
To the game and fucking blew up
(x4)

Young Jeezy:

(Yea, Yea, Hey
Y'all really donno what it is, Yea
What's happening nigga
C.T. , hey, you know what is nigga, it's the 725, Lets go)

Homie fronted me a sip, shit, I made it a bird, (daamn)
Its 17 and a half all I need is the words
See the, ice is cool but them pots is hot
You let it cook slow but that money come fast (haha)
I got what you need I hope you brought all the cash
You know the kid pimpin all over the world (world)
Hundred karats got me all over your girl (Yeaaaa)
Five bricks in my Gucci duffle bag
A corporate thug I run with the players' circle
Got a field mob that disturb ya peace
Blowin Sean j all we do is smoke
Then its countin my bread
And I was getting some head, what's up

Chorus

Luda:

I'm a be all the way real with you, look
When I came into the game they didn't do nothing but doubt me
Now the whole game's changed and it aint nuttin witout me
Pickin up my sloppy seconds as they reach for the crown
Only reason you own that song is cause I turned that down
I went from Hot-Wheels to big wheels (Yea)
Hyundais to Bentleys (yea)
And five-course meals, no more Popeye's and Blimpie's (yea)
From alright to handsome (what)
From one room to mansions (what)
From hanging on the block to throwin parties in the Hamptons (woo)
From broke as a joke to rich as a bitch
I bought a plane and a boat and six other whips
No more da from dice on the curb to stackin up chips
But harder, from birds on my nerd to chicks on my dick
Guard ya women dog, I went from ashy to classy
Went from a kiss on the cheek to doin the nasty
Reach a hand in the air and you can play with the stars
Its not the hand that ya dealt but how youre playing your cards, boy

Chorus
song info:
Verified yes
LanguageEnglish
Genre
Rank
Duration00:01:20
Charts
Copyright ©Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing, Kobalt Music Publishing
WriterChristopher Brian Bridges, Osten Harvey, Osten S Harvey, Jay Jenkins, Marshall B III Mathers, Johnny Mollings, Leonardo Mollings, Luis Resto, Tupac Amaru Shakur, Christopher Wallace, Edgar Winter
Lyrics licensed byLyricFind
AddedSeptember 21st, 2006
Last updatedMarch 8th, 2022
About

Album Details

Ludacris - Release Therapy [2006]
Release Therapy / track 2
Ludacris
4.5 / 5 (2)

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