Lyrics Ghetto Flight - C-Bo, Pizzo

Ghetto Flight

It’s 1994, gang-bangin'done played out
But I still stay strapped cause I don’t wanna get played out
On the concrete with internal bleedin'
Moms at my hand screamin': 'Bo, don’t leave me!'
I’m stairin’in to the sky, thinkin’that I’m gonna die
Here come the onetime, fuck the pigs, they are the last I wanna see
Pen and pad, no love from the deputy
Onetime’s gettin’deeper
And Finally I hear the ambulance creep up
I’m feelin’dehydrated
They hook me up with some I.V.
and a life flight
Sayin’that I’m gonna make it Hoo-ride was the first thing on my mind
But the onetime got prints from my Tec-9
They busted first and I busted back in return
Ain’t no love for them faggot ass baby worms
That’s all I gotta say to porky
Now get the fuck out my face
Detective got mad but I can give a fuck less
I got family and they won’t let the shit rest on my side
Bald head mean muggin’locs, 3−10, 6−5
Is my nigga Teebo, Big Ikey hittin’like a viking
Insane in the brain and can’t wait to ride, see
No matter what they do, you can lock me down
But at twelve caught a ghetto fligt
Cause there still be smokin'…
One-eight-seven, one-eight-seven…
They ridin’on my bumber, bustin’with a Mac-11…
One-eight-seven, one-eight-seven…
They ridin’on my bumber, bustin’with a Mac-11…
One-eight-seven, one-eight-seven…
They ridin’on my bumber, bustin’with a Mac-11…
As I’ve seen deep in my thoughts
Not thinkin’of my senses and all the blood I done lost
It seems like I’m stucked with no luck all of a sudden
So mothafuckas swiftly sweeped on the P-I double Z-O man
I was helpless, if ya could have felt this pain
I had in my side and my brain
Never think that I could end up on my back, player
I never thought a slug could enter through my skin layers
Fuck!
I feel a burnin’sensation and I’m waitin'
For the pain to go away but I know it’s gonna stay
So I guess I’m fucked in the game
Then appeared a bird in the sky, don’t know where it came
Snatched the P-I double Z-O quick, took me on the trip
Don’t know which direction, I’m waitin'
Felt like I went cross the continent
Seems like it took a whole day, then we touched down
White coats all around, suprise, I’m alive in a hospital
Done lost half of my soul, I feel I left control
I’m slippin’away, I took my life for granted
A few hours passed and I still feel stranded
I’m awakin’to see shit in front of me that I never seen before
But I feel alright, then I tripped that I just took the ghetto
fligt…
One-eight-seven, one-eight-seven…
They ridin’on my bumber, bustin’with a Mac-11…
One-eight-seven, one-eight-seven…
They ridin’on my bumber, bustin’with a Mac-11…
One-eight-seven, one-eight-seven…
They ridin’on my bumber, bustin’with a Mac-11…
My homie took a bullet in the kidney
HK in my hand, down on one knee
On his side, Q-Ball don’t die
Mad as fuck and I don’t understand why
The little B.G.'s didn’t bust no caps
After a minute shoot-out still had a loaded strap
Damn and they supposed to be hardcore bangers
And I got the only empty cocked back chamber
Prayin’for my homie not to rest in peace the shit
Just ain’t right to take a life from an O.G.
Retalion is all I can think
Negative and incorrect, here comes the P.D.
Damn, I got a gat and my homie don’t look too good
I hear the bird over the hood
Now I got faith he’ll make it Without a doubt the next album’s dedicated
To my homie Q-Ball
Rest in peace and fuck the rest of ya’ll
So-called homies, I don’t the meanin’when I’m hittin’ya down
But when I’m gone ya wanna see me Ain’t no love in this Garden Blocc life
And I won’t sweat to put a bullet in your chest
And have you next on the ghetto fligt…