The Ghetto

"How do you make your bread in the ghetto?

Baked from the souls of the dead in the Ghetto"

"How do you make your bread in the ghetto?

Baked from the souls of the dead in the Ghetto"

[Buckshot:]

I wake up in the morning, start my day

From the things that I saw, to things that I say

That bring things my way, turn thoughts into action

Then turn action to stackin'

Up the chips, duck the clips from the stray shots

Everyday spots get knocked by the same cops

In my neighborhood they say it's good, it's not

My neighbors is hoods, and all I see is "Chris Rocks"

At night, the same price from the beggar

Can they get a dollar just to holla at the bootlegger?

Noontime drinking they moonshine

Reminiscing about the past, with a bottle to pass

The question to ask is how long could this last

Before you bombed on your last beers, it's a known fact

Cuz, every man in front of a liquor store

Got a story ta tell about how he did it more, but listen

"How do you make your bread in the ghetto?

Baked from the souls of the dead in the Ghetto"

"How do you make your bread in the ghetto?

Baked from the souls of the dead in the Ghetto"

The hood, the block, the ghetto, the spot

Is all the same shit to y'all, aim for the top

Everyday it's a cop or, cock-blocker

Thinkin' he hot, cuz he don't wanna see me rock, but

I'm to hard to be soft, to far to be lost

You in the mind of a boss, so of course

Every time I speak I show you

Some of what I did in the past, you now go through

For example, in school

You had a lot of niggas who cool, but one damn fool

Who, had a snake in the grass mind state

He young he make pape, but he's making it fast so wait

He serve fiends and he's taking it past the weight

He's thirteen and today he just past his weight

And up-state another fat man masturbate

Cuz he get paid while we stay asleep, but he fast awake

"How do you make your bread in the ghetto?

Baked from the souls of the dead in the Ghetto"

"How do you make your bread in the ghetto?

Baked from the souls of the dead in the Ghetto"

Everyday is a struggle in life to get paid

Some gotta get played, just to get played

On the radio and on the videos, in fact

Even if the host is black, they still practice

White supremacy, you might remember

Or you might not, and my mic's hot from that energy

So, pay close attention to the facts

That you recognize the real to recognize the ?actors?

Plastic body bags, in my lobby pass

Me everyday, I'm used to it so I lollygag

Bleeding thru the daily plot up

Damn, another nigga beat up and shot up

He'd have been hot, but, he stopped rapping

And he started selling crack in the Ramada

What's gotta change, fuck making change make a dollar

If you don't make it out the hood, you don't bother

"How do you make your bread in the ghetto?

Baked from the souls of the dead in the Ghetto"

"How do you make your bread in the ghetto?

Baked from the souls of the dead in the Ghetto"