Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Born In The Ghetto, artist - Fat Joe. Date of issue: 10.11.2002
Song language: English
Born In The Ghetto |
| — *Lamajic talks & harmonizes in background* |
| Yeah, it’s time baby |
| It’s time to speak the truth, maturity |
| Huh, niggas gotta evolve to let niggas know the real |
| Ya call yourself real, ya gotta start speakin about the real |
| This is Joe Crack The Don, and this is what I’m bringin to you |
| Uh, yo, nowadays, I’m flirtin with uncertain death |
| Lord I gotta be dyin, cause after all this cryin, how much more hurtin’s left? |
| When will the pain stop? |
| This depression and anxiety, is gonna make me show another side of me |
| My niggas ride with me cause I’m the truth |
| There’s benefits to rollin with this clique, don’t nobody fuck with you |
| Still they label me a tyrant and a backstabber |
| But study the facts of crack, the shit don’t add up |
| I’m bringin opportunity to my community |
| Probably the only rapper that cares, but still you out to ruin me |
| Who you foolin B? |
| I’m for unity, latins and blacks |
| Could you fathom the strength, we have of the two it attach |
| Born together, voted alike |
| These uncle charm politicians ain’t holdin us right |
| How could the same nigga be 20 years in office |
| When it’s clear the only thing that’s risin is unemployment |
| Abortion, little kids havin kids |
| The school system is failing us, now ain’t that some shit |
| While the rich keep gettin richer, the poor keep dyin young |
| I can’t hide no more, the time has come |
| — w/ ad libs |
| I was born in the ghetto |
| Tremblin, tryin' a stay alive |
| Cause when you’re born in the ghetto |
| No one seems to hear your cry |
| Brown skin, you know I love my bra-ha-own skin |
| Everyday I’m confronted with racism |
| These motherfuckin coppers, wanna bag us and have us shackled up in state |
| prisons |
| After all the taxes I pay |
| You would think when they stop us, they would have something nicer to say |
| Than «get the fuck out the car, where the drugs at? |
| All the jewelry you wearin, where the fuckin guns at?» |
| Once they search the car clean and find nothin |
| The same crooked cops try to act like they know us or somethin |
| Laughin, tellin jokes by the thousands |
| Two seconds ago they tried to send us to the mountains |
| Leave my son without a father, my wife without a husband |
| The more I think about it, man it’s just disgusting |
| Still we live amongst 'em, everybody wants out |
| That’s why we rap like we got silver spoons in our mouths |
| Like we ain’t grow up on welfare |
| Nigga don’t even go there, you probably wore Pro Players |
| We need to educate the youth, tell our seeds the truth |
| Too much to share, the bare minimum will exceed the proof |
| Oh, yeah, so much pain |
| Tryin hard to stay alive, stay alive |
| Out in these streets, oooh (*harmonizing*) |
| Man sometimes in can get so tough |
| Oh yeah, yes it can |
| Yes it can, yeah |
| It can get so hard, so hard, so hard |