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