Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Ghetto, artist - Ghostface Killah. Date of issue: 31.12.2009
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Ghetto |
| Yo, yo, yo, turn me up, turn me up |
| Turn me up, turn me up, yeah, yeah, come on |
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, take everything, yeah |
| Yeah, real shit, real shit, Shallah Raekwon |
| All day, let’s go, aiyo, aiyo, aiyo |
| I was born and raised, in the ghetto |
| I was born and raised, in the ghetto |
| I was born and raised, in the ghetto |
| Listen to me, and just lay up |
| Park Hill Projects, one eight pound |
| Holding it down, that’s the motto, 'lo goose and lottos |
| Blunts on the regular, O.G. |
| style |
| I’m into old V’s, swinging in cabs, slinging them OZ’s |
| All I know is running in fiends labs, hitting the green bags |
| Visualizing Chef in the green Jag’s |
| Wait til I get on, the haters gonna hate it |
| In this corner, a rich young don with a crisp lab |
| Brother, listen to me |
| Brother, listen to me |
| Listen to me, and just lay up |
| How do you make your bread in the ghetto? |
| How do you make your bread in the ghetto? |
| Hustling, hustle &flow |
| We make bread in the ghetto, by selling that crack |
| See niggas that make bread by busting the gat |
| Might stick a nigga up, stab him dead in his back |
| It’s a dirty bread game, but we get through them stacks |
| Bread game, rather have bread than fame |
| Some sell pills and weed, it ain’t no joke |
| Might sell anything as long as we not broke |
| So if you getting that bread, we be coming for your throat |
| It’s crazy what a brother might do for the bread |
| Might violate parole til ya family is dead |
| We get bread in the ghetto, while we ducking the feds |
| I heard bread in the ghetto got a loaf on his head, come on |
| Brother, listen to me |
| Brother, listen to me |
| Listen to me, and just lay up |
| How do you get rid of rats in the ghetto? |
| Yo, yo, aiyo we ox 'em, duff 'em, stuff 'em in black bags |
| Torture them, toss 'em out the window with rift rafts |
| Cuz we don’t take kindly to rats in the ghetto |
| Either your mouth stay shut or get slapped with the metal |
| Big fat rats get fried like porkchops for snitching |
| Get your ass hung like a wall clock |
| It’s Tone Stark, Billy the Kid when the gun bark |
| A wire sticking out his shirt, he talking to NARC! |
| How do you raise your kids in the ghetto? |
| How do you raise your kids in the ghetto? |
| Feed one child and starve another |
| Tell me, tell me, and just lay up |
| We like brothers, we came from the same mothers |
| In the projects, under the same covers |
| Wore the same drawers, fucked the same whores |
| Rolled dice, kicked rhymes, did crimes in the same hall |
| Sprayed our names on the same wall |
| Yo, your kids knew my kids, your wiz knew my wiz |
| Now you caught up in music and showbiz |
| If that’s what it is, then that’s what it is |
| Run up in your crib, with twelve black brothers |
| That’ll digest to live, die just to live |
| Some called us martyrs, some called us fathers |
| Run up in the club like the suicide bombers |
| We be the brothers, ready past lovers |
| Never wanna see us, blow, we not others |
| Somewhere in the competition, friends got lost |
| The money got flipped, your tables got crossed |
| Now you all caught up in that label talk |
| Brain dead in the grain of thoughts |
| With a name and a game that can change New York |
| We ate from the same fork, pop had the same thought |