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Artist: King Tee f/ Bad Azz, Da Homie E, Young Maylay
Album:  The Ruthless Chronicles/San Andreas: The Original Mixtape
Song:   Ghetto *
Typed by: dy_face@hotmail.com

* re-titled as 'Inna Ghetto' for 'San Andreas Mixtape'

[Intro: Unidentified Artist]
(*Coughing*)
Na, La La La La La, ghetto awww
Na, La La La La La, ghetto awww.. awww awww

[Verse One: King Tee]
Man, let the summer begin, the heat excites my westsiders
Ain't nothing but G's and Lowriders
Dipping in the tightest, indoed out, benzoed out
Fool, what got the Henn' no doubt
My friends show out, we stack up ends and roll out
Make sure the Chronic smoke blows out
Them tricks got no clout
Cause they're hating how we serve it
Don't test T-Loc, it ain't worth it
The satellites go circuit, zooming in or how you work it
And killers make the world standstill, picture perfect
Infinite since the infantile of the child
Mamma said the baby gone wild, so I'm like Ta-dow
How you like your chickens, how to mild
I slang them like it's going out to style
Now, I'm in traffic, any block these rims will turn
Take you niggaz on the burn

[Chorus: Unidentified Artist]
We're cracking bottles, we're popping Es
Life is crazy in the ghetto, awww 
We're stacking money, we're blowing trees
Ain't shit for free in the ghetto, awww awww awww

[Verse Two: Da Homie E]
The invincible (For Sure) in the ghetto, still active
Plotted these whores, find that attractive
Those in high-heels with skull skills
Constantly boozed and popped pills (YEAH!!)
Hand me your big bills, fat faces
High top chucks with the fat blue laces (YEAH!!)
Been many places, dodged many cases
Dip Hundred Spokes, used to be laces

[Verse Three: Young Maylay]
We stay in new shoes, green sleeves, white jeans
We choose to be.. in wide Ts like me (YEAH!!)
Lock down the street, high bopping beat
Homies hold their own heat, 45 under my seat
Gold and chrome and gold Dees with my hat to the back
Box knocking and Gangster rapping
And ohh.. no problem to jack for what we lack 
I'm liver to have cheese, weed, cavie and strap

[Chorus]

[Verse Four: Bad Azz]
We're hollering at you, nigga, you should holler at us back
Get a rattle in a sack, plus, a mottle or a bract
Pop a collar with a mack, for a scholar with a gat
Get a dollar off a jack, let him blow off his sack
It's nothing to a boss, but tomorrow hit me back
So now need his raps, it's hard with no snaps
When you call got a flat, nobody calling you back
You can't blame a nigga out there, holding his right
They treat a nigga the same if you're balling in this raps
I'm falling them back, we're all in a patch
If you think we're all that, I stand tall cause I'm black
My heart is tact, I'm smart when you lack
I got a diamond cause that
You're pushing a car full of whack
It's an art not an act, play the part by the bats
The King and I always making spark where we at
The party has been started while you're parking your 'llacs

[Chorus] - repeat until fade