Hook
There, there, baby
It's just textbook stuff
It's in the ABC, of growing up
There, there, baby
It'S just textbook stuff
It's in the ABC, of growing up

Verse 1: XV
Three women raised me
Famous for where payment not enough to blow up
But showed up cause I ain't fuckin' lazy
And teachers thought I was dumb or crazy
Or both. Where hopes of being a Nas or Jay-Z
I sloped, in my chair and my grades
My hair wasn't raised
Being fly was priority to the lowest
I would stand on my desk just to see the world in a different way
The dead society of a poet
Homie I'm focused
But there's something that a dude can't prove
I mean fam, I was damn near invisible at school
So I banged for a minute
Cause all my niggas was crippin'
Just me and my two of my dudes, blue man crew
Had dreams of doing things they say that you can't do
Cause everything ain't black and white, 'less you chew bamboo
So I was after big bills like a toucan do
All the while my mom askin' why I'm truant at school
She said

Hook
There, there, baby
It's just textbook stuff
It's in the ABC, of growing up
There, there, baby
It'S just textbook stuff
It's in the ABC, of growing up

Verse 2: XV
Uhh, So why ain't I go to college
My mommas ultimatum made me say that I know I got it
My niggas said these buggin'
Stay on your computer software, debugging
But we holding hardware cause we thuggin'
Now they in the track-house with some guns that they done borrowed
And all this snow, I call it Infant Sorrow
With plans to reach the end even if I had to star slow
Sold CDs in the mall, making dough like Sbarro
Then I left the hood, like fuck it don't need the cargo
Find more similar lyrics on http://mp3lyrics.com/X8vPThey banking I don't do well, and I don't mean Fargo
But even when you leave, somehow it still try to follow
Baby brother took a charge harder than LeBron and Rondo
Trying to keep his head up while his eyes are in the Bible
Cause they say a monist's idol is a devil's toy aisle
My nephew looking at me cause his daddy is his idol
I looked at him, told him sit down
This information is vital, look

Hook
There, there, baby
It'S just textbook stuff
It's in the ABC, of growing up
There, there, baby
It'S just textbook stuff
It's in the ABC, of growing up

Verse 3: Kendrick Lamar
Living my life like I'm living right
In the midst of a fire pit
The gang-banging and violence, is the sweetest song
And I roam with the heart of a violin
Don't violate my patience I'm waiting, to kill a man
As I stare at the ceiling fan, as a fan of these wicked streets
If I gotta eat, I steel like a metal piece
I'm screaming out "Fuck The Police!"
I'm dealing my cards with Jokers on em
You can disown him or stone him
I'm throwing them rocks back, with the fury of bullets
You couldn't live you life for the moment
When I'm foaming at the mouth
And my sharpest of teeth showing
I'm in the back of a black Buick
Finna black out, like February
Ain't that's how blacks do it, right?
I cut off my ears before I hear your advice and vice versa
I'm screaming for help, as loud as I can but that's not working
I'm working them corners like blueprints
Then caught an L on my first offence
The judge threw the book at me
And said this

Hook
There, there, baby
It's just textbook stuff
It's in the ABC, of growing up
There, there, baby
It'S just textbook stuff
It's in the ABC, of growing up