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Game

Genres: Hip-Hop

I Grew Up On Wu-tang Lyrics - Game

I grew up on the crime side, the New York Times side 

Staying alive was no jive 

Had secondhands, Mom's bounced on old man 

So then we moved to Shaolin land 

A young youth, yo, rocking the gold tooth, 'Lo goose 

Only way I be gettin' the G off was drug loot 

And let's start it like this son 

Rolling with this one and that one 

(Bongo by the way) 

 

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(Red Wallabies) Buzzing with my Killa Beez 

Chronic had my eyes chinky like Compton was the Philippines 

Junior prom, red suit, Tasha in that limousine 

Tryna suck the head off my dick like a guillotine 

Came in her mouth, then gave her some Listerine 

Put a condom on and let her grind it like a centipede 

(Cash rules everything around me) 

Before Dre found me, before my city crowned me 

Bummy lil nigga, pussy niggas used to clown me 

Had to wear my brother's clothes, them shits used to drown me 

6 years passed now I'm banging in the county 

Niggas that used to talk shit won't even come around me 

Reciting Method Man while my celly just sit there 

Niggas know I been on the Wu before Ric Flair 

Came home through the hood, GX shining 

Now these bitches think I'm Lex Diamonds 

 

Photos 

 

Nigga I grew up on Wu-Tang 

Nigga I grew up on Wu-Tang 

(Cash rules everything around me) 

(Cash rules everything around me) 

 

I grew up on Wu-Tang, dope had my shoe game Liu Kang 

Jordan 12's sick as hell, Michael Jordan flu game 

Glass jar, Pyrex, obsessed with the blue flame 

Lexus coupe, rubbing on them titties boy, 2 Chainz 

Top of the food chain, niggas wanna kill me 

Cause I turned into the plug, I'm where the chronic and the pills be 

RZA with the rings, Ol' Dirty with the stainless 

Five .38 revolvers, thirty-six chambers 

Killah like Ghostface, as the Rollie rotate 

Daytons on the S-Class equipped with the floor safe 

And we had the stash spots with them red and blue tops 

Chronic in the GLAAD lock, the dope spot padlocked 

In the living room bagging shit up watching Matlock 

Black Glock, crack rock bundled in my black socks 

And my mama working late, skinny nigga serving weight 

Let the chronic circulate the Purple Tape 

 

I grew up on Wu-Tang 

Nigga I grew up on Wu-Tang 

(Cash rules everything around me) 

(Cash rules everything around me) 

(C.R.E.A.M. get the money, dollar, dollar bill y'all) 

Writer:

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