Lyrics:
out the hood
But can't take the hood out me ('cause what?)
'Cause I'm ghetto, I'm ghetto, niggas hate when you do good
But when you broke, your
y'all
Dope dealers have it all and then free fall
Caine numbs the pain up and down the ghetto seesaw
The voice of the youth, they hear me and they see
Ghetto birds with pink Timb's
A box of shells for the Cola for Kim's
Sponsored by the Clan, see
Pop more vanilla cherry than Luke Perry
Now tell me
out the hood
But can't take the hood out me ('cause what?)
'Cause I'm ghetto, I'm ghetto, niggas hate when you do good
But when you broke, your
Give you dap and then we slide
Through your hood three dozen times
So what's good? I'm looking for a pedicure
Pink pussy that pop
Preferably the kind
of people, marching up the avenue
Doin? what they gotta do, just to get by
I'm living in the land of plenty and many
But I'm damn sure poor and I don't
for my people, yet we don't know why
They cuttin' sistas off welfare, these kids can't eat
And it's the children like thuggish minds turned out by
(Let me tell 'em what it is)
Intellect music (Let me tell 'em what it is)
This is African music (Let me tell 'em what it is)
Ghetto child music (Can I
These children are living in
A world where their
Friends, their brothers, their
Sisters, their cousins
Their classmates are dying violently
They are
Thank you Brooklyn, thank you world
Yeah, yeah there it is
Turn my voice up in the top a little bit
It feel good to be back
What's up ochenta?
robbin' and killin' my own kind, Lord forgive me
blinded by this life of crime, God somebody hear me
since the death of my momma, my life is filled with
the world can't hide
Genocide niggas killing up they own kind
Murder, murder
Is something that I can't help
I even had to ride on some niggas by myself
I live
while also
Reaching for the kind of mass
Pop-cultural relevance that he, Nicki
And Atlantic Records all believe him
To be capable of judging by
fear, sittin around watchin muthafuckas die
The faces of death
Who coulda predicted 2pac would be next?
Read ghetto text: if you live by the sword
robbin' and killin' my own kind, Lord forgive me
blinded by this life of crime, God somebody hear me
since the death of my momma, my life is filled with
to the heart of killer Queens
Bronx and Brooklyn and everything up in between
No matter what, you always got a Judas on your team
Giving it to the world
robbin' and killin' my own kind, Lord forgive me
blinded by this life of crime, God somebody hear me
since the death of my momma, my life is filled with
when they turn you in? Do you show forgiveness?
What brush do you bend when dusting your shoulders from being offended?
What kind of den did they put
the profit get sacrificed by the Oxy
Get ratchet when ratchets out and they firing
Residue on pinata's, wonder what's up inside of 'em
It's sure ain't no
soldier in this ghetto going crazy
If my life in danger, should I kill a man, maybe
Bust at his dome, but he's somebody's baby
Daddy know he raised me
twilight and I stood in a greyish haze of the vast empty building
When the silence was enriched by a reverberant voice
All the things of this world it said
your mind like they did Kennedy's
Closed casket ghetto boys world where we
Make the murder bracket high shore taxes
High by the dead beat daddy’s
a ghetto philosopher) yeah, you know the type
Thinkin' Mary J. And Sade understood her strife
Caught me lookin', "Yo what's cookin?"
"Nothin' from around
and go big on the Vette
By any means, gotta get the check
Politically correct
In my Makaveli voice, yeah I'm down for the cause
Judge, does hoop shit,
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