Ghetto Stardom
Now when I just made 12 years old
My mama told me:Baby boy, you know you gotta be strong
And even though they lead you wrong, stay on the right track
Cause it aint no get right without some get back.
Yeah, I heard that, but back then I didnt feel it
Cause I was rollin do or die, tryna see me a ticket, just kickin
G-block, I said Ill never leave
Even when the rollers chase me down til I cant breathe
***** freeze, who me? Oh, never that!
Im hittin fence after fence until Im chillin at my doormat
Like a mack I had to get away
Cause Im a smooth operator, ask Shanda
But the rollers in the V is so shady
If they could, they would plan something on me
But really , them aint the fools I gotta worry bout
Cause white folks goin loced in the white house
And I doubt a republican or democrate
Gives a **** about us young inner city blacks
Its a trap, Uncle Sam keeps cursing me
Rather have me in the pen than the university
Yeah, its a shame but mane, thats how it is
So ya better peep game and try to lace ya kids
Cause it aint no tellin whats soon to come
When the punk president might drop the bomb
Got me all stressed out with my brain on numb
My little cousin asking me where **** come from
[Chorus:]
They try to tell us in the verses and the scriptures
But I guess the real message must have missed us
In 96 all my brothers and my sisters
Is on a mission, were trippin livin senseless
Tell me, will I see the sun in days to come
Will blacks be the victors instead of victims
Or will my people keep killing over ****in crumbs
Pushin * *** just to reach ghetto stardom
If you ask Mac Mall who Im voting for
I say:Farrakhan as Im hittin the bomb
I .. to the swisher or the dohja spliff
Get elevated to another as I reminisce
About fresh candy paint and peanut butter tops
Young hustlers havin paper, livin top notch
And then the D-game straight decline
And all you Sawyer turf **** ** makin headlines
10 oclock news or Americas most
Unsolved mysteries, you better soak some ****
Then the judge starts droppin the injuries
On all the gangstas, playahs, macks and Gs
And you know you wont see em til about 2 thou
Cause ya boy got washed with a faulty assed trial
But at least one day he gone be free
Some soldiers aint never gonna see the streets
Thats why I keep servin game over my beats
So all my people, in and out, can straight feel me
[Chorus]
There is nowhere for me to run
Nowhere for me to hide from reality
But I dont wanna be a casualty
Of another tryna smother a brother just cause my salary
And dog, I tell ya that these times so sick
That my sisters smoking dohja, 8 months pregnant
My brother bubble on the grind and hes way legit
Working on his third strike and he still wont quit
But I cant tellhim nuttin bout a salary job
So in order to get tha paper the boy gotta mob or sob
All will fall to the waistside
While the rollers overlook they wanna take lifes
Youngstas they gettin raised off the T.V.
Got white kids around the country wanna be me
And the way they point the finger aint even shob
Television replace religion, now the gangstas god
And old folks wonder why we so crazy
90 knuckleheads and 70 high babies
And cant nobody tell me that Im wrong
Uncle Sam finding ways to fit computer chips in my dome
So I should ask before you slip
See its higher than the ultimate trip
[Chorus]
You know, dedicated to DJ Cee, S-Double the Mac
Reach Ghetto Stardom