DJ Kay Slay, Greg Street - In The Ghetto lyrics
DJ Kay Slay [Keith Grayson] New York, U.S.
[DJ Kay Slay, Greg Street - In The Ghetto lyrics]
We're from the state where the
Tarer alert is 24 7
Niggas is clowns, like Rino 9 11
With me, what you see is what you get
Never commertialed my life, I own jets
No one does it quite like Joe
Black Rob getting knocked for robbery
Now that's Whoa
My money too long, I keep peeking at it
Cheese stacked in hundreds
Rats keep peaking at it
You with Fred Jones, tryna break the fight up
I'm the fat nigga in gray
Quick to light your ass up
I know you love a nigga's slick talk
Type to slap a bitch for
Disturbing a nigga's pimp walk
The vibe, got it coming with the sauce
Lean Back was the hottest shit popping in 04
Now it's 05, and the king's been crowned
Riding through the Bronks
With the mack in the hoodie down
Relax yourself, let your conscious free
You're now rolling with the Capo, from DIP
And if you wanna join the set
Well you must be a G
And rest in peace to Pac, and BIG
Know I keep my K cocked, in VIP
Catch me sliding to the drop, with this PYT
When the cops stop my car, they wanna see ID
You know the rules, niggas you keep ID
Who you think starts the drama? the NYC
Catch me smoking, drinking water
Getting bent in my V
And the media depicting me
Crookid in this game
But I started watching my mama
When she was cooking up game
And I tried going to school
But there was no books in my brain
So I started cutting class
Playing hooky to bang
The only Chemestry class
Chefing up cookies with Game
And that's when Mennis was out
I cried when he got locked up again
I'm done with rap beefs, subliminal quotes
Cats saying they hustle
But never visioned Coke
See Shaq Deezy from the bricks
I took a brick, flip a clip
Made big chips
I see stick up kids that's stuck up kids
Saying they bullet proof
Just cause they luck outlived
They must admit God loved them
Far as the rest goes
Bllack was the dress coad
Crave you all dugged them
Red if you see Shaq, banging on them
Hanging on ryms
That was before Gats and Tims
I had a white bomber, a white fir color
MC, your people call me Mill
Was bumpin in my cousin FCC
Ask Mastafa and that lil Nigga
Doo bout Shaq Deezy
They told me "Shaq, you a baller
Stay away from the streets"
That's why I bang on fake ass Jordans
And fake ass beats bitch!
Niggas know me, I'm young but I'm an OG
And niggas know I'm from the HOOD
On the block, I pitch rock
I had to strip lot
Live and born in the ghetto
Never wanna hear cops
And hip hop like a gig
I'm tryna make it big
But sometimes I hate the biz
Cause how fake it is
You wanna see how many bullets
You can take and live? Even with a vest on
You still gon break a rib
I torture his ass, he was like my son
But that nigga done stick a fork in his ass
You Bun B-ed it, you got me dumb heated
I'm undefeated
That's why I'm cocky and conceited
I'm confedent
Cause my bars the most domanant
And I got chicks in other contenents
Giving me complements
You ain't famous as me
I got chicks screamin that don't even
Speak the same language as me
A lot of yelling
But you ain't really saying nothing
The whole New York can tell
That bitch nigga frontin ice grill, seen it
I done shot at niggas, bust the gun off
And had a hood rat cleaning
So much talk about who run New York
They should really ask bout who
Running in New York
I know me, P, Jada, and Loso talk
D block, do work with the hawk
I'm on school murder hate it, skip fresh
Park the V outside Willy Burger
With D and them
You just have dreams of being them
You brothers, white BM with the uni covers
Now I'm old enough to fuck niggas' mothers
So I light up, drink about 3 Caronas
Black mask, black ice Atonas