"Lil' Ghetto Boy (Remix)" lyrics

"Lil' Ghetto Boy (Remix)"
(feat. Snoop Doggy Dogg)

The ghetto
The ghetto
The ghetto
The ghetto

The ghetto
The ghetto
The ghetto
The ghetto

Wake up, jumped out my bed
I'm in a two man cell with my homie Lil' 1/2 Dead
Murder was the case that they gave me
Dear God, I wonder can you save me?
I'm only eighteen, so I'm a young buck
It's a ride, if I don't scrap, I'm getting stuck
But that's the life of G, I guess
Ese's way deep, shanked two in the chest
Best run cause brothers is dropping quicker
Ugn, too late, damn, down goes another nigga
Bouncing off the walls, throwing them dogs
Getting that rep as a young hog
It ain't nothing like the street life
You better be strapped with your shank
Cause ain't no fist fight
So I guess I gots to handle mine
Since I did the crime, I gots to do my time

We run game in the ghetto
We gets high in the ghetto
We gets shot in the ghetto
You might get stuck in the ghetto
Lil' ghetto boy

Now I'm holding the dub, sitting on swoll
Twenty-seven years old, up for parole, stroll
I'm back up on my feet with my mind on the money
That I be making soon as I touch them streets
Things done changed on this side
Remember they used to thump, but now they blast, right?
But it ain't no thang to me
Cause now I'm what they call a loced ass O.G
The little homies from the hood with grip
Are the ones I get with cause I'm down to set trip
Nigga, I'm bigger than you, so what you wanna do?
Didn't know he had a twenty-two
Straight sitting behind his back
I grabbed his pockets and then I heard six caps
I fell to the ground with blood on my hands
I didn't understand
How a nigga so young could bust a cap
I used to be the same way back
I guess that's what I get (for what?)
For trying to jack the little homies for they grip

We run game in the ghetto
We gets high in the ghetto
We gets shot in the ghetto
You might get stuck in the ghetto
Lil' ghetto boy

Something for the real O.G.s to get with
Some facts made our made
Now you running but I'm played
Like every single day, really doe
You know me, I'm the smooth macadamian
Gaming 'em for my homie
No need in be uncalm, if you pack right
And learning just enough to keep your sack tight
Late nights, I wonder what they get in for?
Early morning on the corners, what they hitting for?
Seven young Gs put they serve down
In a G ride, Eastside's where they swerve now
Not thinking about what's really going on
Got crept on, stepped on, now they gone
I spent four years in the county
With nothing but convicts around me
But now I'm back at the Pound
And we expose ways for the youth to survive
Some think it's wrong but we tend to think it's right
So make all them ends you can make
Cause when you're broke, you break, check it out
So ain't no need for your mama to trip
Cause you's a hustling ass youngster, clocking your grip

We run game in the ghetto
We gets high in the ghetto
We gets shot in the ghetto
You might get stuck in the ghetto
Lil' ghetto boy

Lil' ghetto boy

That's the life of a G, I guess
The ghetto
The ghetto
The ghetto

That's the life of a G
That's the life of a G, I guess
The ghetto
The ghetto
The ghetto

That's the life of a G. The ghetto
That's the life of a G, I guess
The ghetto


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