Lyrics:
got blue chips in the face
Glock with two tips, whoever gets in the way
Not to mention the hideaway that rests by the lake
Consider my raw demeanor
Raised by the streets where shit ain't sweet
Life gets bitter before you get richer
That's what the ghetto said when it spoke to me
Can't let it take
runnin', but I wish the first one was coming in faster
They us trapped in this ghetto forever my nigga
Why?
'Cause this shits a pattern
I got with evil,
appeared
At 16 ghetto tat Turkish rope left ear, jeeah
Never banged but swayed by ghetto politics
Spots got popped, hotter than a pot of grits
We had no pot
Tell ya people that I'm comin by (Yeah yeah)
Got that shit that'll get ya high (Holla at a pimp)
Talkin shit cause I'm off
Tonight, and you really
(yo)i write rhymes that make niggas throw they sets up
Couldn't hold my style if you had a pair of handcuffs
In all disrespect
I'll snatch you by your
Ladies and gents
Turn up your sound system
To the Sound of Carlos Santana
And the G&B (it's The Product)
Ghetto Blues from the Refugee Gang
Money still in mansions man
CMB, 10 a ki' , wodie ain't nothing changed
But I still got my ghetto stripes
Red, blue and yellow ice
That's all I rock,
can't let that slick-talk shit get past me, oh
I like fancy cars and jewels, but don't get it confused
I'm so ghetto and rude, how I'm supposed to do
Ladies and gents
Turn up your sound system
To the Sound of Carlos Santana
And the G&B (it's The Product)
Ghetto Blues from the Refugee Gang
But the ghetto sun will nurture life
And mend my soul sometime again
The big wheel keeps on turning
On a simple line day by day
The earth spins
sick off Rhemy and brews
Wit a hang over from blues
Hurl on my clothes and shoes stomach on wooz
From this killer weed that's so fired it made your
by far in ya life
I got heroin by the balloons, kabooms and mushrooms
And my 38. specialist puttin' banker's in they tomb's
I'm one, shot, killed,
It's a trap, it's a trap
Why they ain't tell us red and blue don't matter when you black?
Matter of fact we in blindfolds, bunch of lost souls
were the last good days of the ghetto
It wasn't all about bein jiggy, so save that rap for Jell-O
Down on my knees in the street playin skelly
Rushin
And make sure you don't hit those white lines by the curb
You wit your shuby do in the Subaru
Oh Lord I jumped in a dark blue Ford
And he claimed he in it
what I'm a give em when they land in last place
Hand right by the... they ain't too many seeing us
So they wanna take my gifts
But I wrap em with
much time you got
Told you,"shouldn't run a lot"
Now look how much time you got
Take life on the streets- your own
Made by Grease beats- pure dog
of green'll give a nigga blues
A sip of purple make a nigga rue
Make a drunk person speak a sober tune (I can't go on this way)
Fuck dat, I can't do it man
since '92
Look at all the bullshit l been through
Sure caught beef with you know who
Fuck a few female stars or two
Then a blue light niggas knew like
Three major players gettin' papers by the layers
And those that betray us on the block get rocked like Amadeus
Fakers get used as shootin' targets soon
a blue flag in the left pocket
But most of my nigga be straight mobbin
Rap game locked like a safe on it
Show no hate
But I welcome all of it
Tennis chain
we all sharin the ghetto blues
4 g'z always posted at the pad
True homies going through the pain You never had
Feeling good on a good day
But it aint
man
CMB, 10 a ki' , wodie ain't nothing changed
But I still got my ghetto stripes
Red - blue and yellow ice
That's all I rock, fuck the cops
They want
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