| Ghetto celebriteeeeeee… ooooh
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| (You ain’t heard shit, you ain’t did shit
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| 'til you got yo’wig split)
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| From a nobody nigga, to a ghetto celebriteeeeee.
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| From a nobody nigga, to a ghetto celebriteeeeee.
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| (You ain’t did shit, you ain’t heard shit
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| 'til you got yo’wig split)
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| From a nobody nigga, to a ghetto celebriteeeeee.
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| Ahhh (AHHHH)
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| I got straight thrick-fifty-fifty-seven, reasons
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| that are criminals, thugs, hoodlums, heathens
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| Smoke wet, daddies, sherm, high
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| Bloop bloop dip dip water water fry
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| Crack, COCAINE yola, bloody sheets
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| They brought it in on a plane, and I put it on my streets
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| 1300 block, magazine
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| 40 in the kitchen cookin, ice cream
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| Zippers, zones, her-on and hubba rocks
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| Gotta little kids to the front yard runnin around distractin the cops
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| Skirts, breezies felines, hootchies shorties
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| Playaz pimpin, gettin blunted and drankin forties
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| Chevies Cougars, Firebirds, ?? |
| and Fairlanes
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| Monte Carlos, Mavericks, Novas and Ford Mustangs
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| Bout them dollars (bout them dollars)
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| Sittin on twinkies (sittin on twinkies)
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| Need a half a key? |
| Need to come see me, Mr. Local Celebrity
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| Chorus: Suga T each 3rd line in ()
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| From a nobody nigga, to a ghetto celebriteeeeee.
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| (Mmmmmmm, ghetto celebrity!)
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| From a nobody nigga, to a ghetto celebriteeeeee.
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| (Ghetto celebrity)
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| From a nobody nigga, to a ghetto celebriteeeeee.
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| (Mmmmmmm, ghetto celebrity!)
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| From a nobody nigga, to a ghetto celebriteeeeee.
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| (Ghetto celebrity)
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| BEOTCH! |
| Fo’A.M., tryin to make some bank
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| with a bulletproof apron, cookin the crank
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| in apartment letter C, building number three
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| Where ery’body and their grandma be but everybody know me though, WE FOLKS
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| Busted the man they seen us in vogues
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| Ain’t no, snitch codes
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| Just pimps and playaz, hookers and hoes
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| Only problem that we haaaaave, is with the man
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| Cause a couple of my Sigourney went up in one of my, methamphetamine labs
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| Double-oh-G shit, we rides, hardtops and trucks
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| Empty the clip dere, high speeds, dumpin on the cops
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| It’s mad dope like the Grinch, who did what? |
| Who stole Christmas
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| Attitude over there by the fence BUTT-NAKED
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| Toe-tagged him, that’s how they found yo’dirt
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| Damn, uh-ohh, shit, hold him up The homey from the block just got busted for robbin an armed truck
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| Assed out, to’up, stupid stuck
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| without a doubt, shit out of luck (shit out of luck)
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| I ain’t no fictionary rhymer, fool I’m a timah
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| ever since I came out of my, momma’s vagina
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| Been smokin tweed since nine, but I got too used to her
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| Now I be powderin my nose, with some of that there sugar booka
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| My G’s tell me I’m out of line but my head is all I can see
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| I know some timahs that been snortin for years, and they still sharpest
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| Dude you know the game let me explain you can take some notes (notes)
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| I never hung around kids, just grown folks
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| When it’s a drought in the town, we sell BOMB
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| and let our boys drive our cars to the prom
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| Vipers, Bentleys, Jaguars, drop-top Mercedes
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| Porsches, Lincolns Ferraris Volvo S-80's
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| Stretchers, choppers, heat mizers and M-16's
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| SK’s, sawed off shotguns, AR-15's
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| AK’s, fresh out the box, the choo choo train (the choo choo train)
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| Po-Po, left it unlocked, now that’s some game!
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| You know, that I know, that you know who I be Need a half a key, nigga come see me, Mr. Local Celebrity, UHHH
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| Never forget a big timah. |
| ghetto celebrity
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| Don’t forget me when you. |
| ghetto celebrity
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| Hustlin, money. |
| ghetto celebrity
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| Do what you gotta do. |
| ghetto celebrity |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Ghetto Celebrity (feat. Suga-T) , by - E-40. Song from the album Charlie Hustle: The Blueprint of a Self-Made Millionaire, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп