From The Ghetto

Lyrics

[Intro] Oh, I'd rather had been born a rich man With a life that was so filled with joy I would've liked to have been educated (Uh) I would've liked for people to come and bring me toys Let me tell you about it I came direct from the ghetto [Verse 1] 7-1-8, the Queens borough, the E train I'm from the ghetto, never even thought I'd see fame Hillcrest High, D'Xplicit my street name Master of Ceremony and dope with my beat game Niggas imprisoned, decisions made in an instant For me, I was lookin' to build a billion dollar imprint I had exotic cars and bitches on my wishlist Uncles that hustled and taught me handle my business Crack vials before the Ziploc baggies Twelve-twelve skinnys had the crackheads aggie We stole hoopties, some of us sold loosie And now I'm in the telly like all I know is groupies All I know is I was born broke And I ain't have a wicked jump shot so I dunked my song notes High school dropout, some call me a failure But look at all this hun'ed thousand dollar paraphernalia I'm talkin' all solid gold Sit back, relax as my story gets told Ran away from home, Christmas Eve in the cold That's when I became a man at 15 years old Moms lost control and Pops was rollin' stoned [Interlude] I believe you should know Lord, I believe you should know (Uh) [Verse 2] I grew up in the threw up, the place where babies is found in sewers For funerals, we suit up for parties that niggas shoot up Young black male, a.k.a. the screw up Telephone wires fallen soldiers, throw a shoe up From Skips to Pumas, no Twitter beefs or rumors The ghetto, where too much talk could leave you with tumors Pops in and out, so the crib was unstable Guess that's why my chick be on my dick is unfaithful Elections all rigged, we never voted for a fuckin' thing All we wanted was the Knicks to get a fuckin' ring Big brother in the sky, I'm tryna win And I don't have regrets, so I embrace my sins [Interlude] I came, direct from the ghetto [Verse 3] Yellow tape on the sidewalk A couple grammies and a killin' all the side talk Bitch niggas hate to see you growin' fly off Crabs in the barrel, in the past like a shadow The hood gave me culture, stamina, and bravado That's why you on the outside, window shoppin' for models I got a plan for some brand new shit My own bank, I'm developin' the blue print Haha, uh You couldn't walk a mile in my shoe print This is structure, look at what the avenue did Flyin' private, vacations on islands And I ain't talkin' Rikers, I got neighbors in the Caymans Shwanky real estate crib next to Wes Craven's Nightmare on every street, nightmare on every beat [Outro] There's a whole lot of children down there Lost in the ghett— Lost in the ghett— Lost in the ghett—, in the ghetto