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Ghetto DEMF (feat. Quelle Chris)

Ayyo, left with the hood that I rep with

From the side of the tracks in the area

Where they might bury ya bare with a stare

And 'em bullets'll flair in the air in hysteria

Welcome to America's Detroit area

Hoes that bit open up clothes in the streets

And leave the cops in there fearing ya

Cops in the area to knock off

So drop when you hear the pop

That mean it probably done popped off

The only blaze when you are walking in the place

While wearing some Cartiers and get a gun in your face

And catch a bullet for shades, hold up yo

Niggas like oh shit dawg you on some ho shit

Ghetto DMF but you seeing more guns then glow sticks

Black girl smoke shit, white girl coke strip

Hung around niggas that didn't know shit

Only knew the hustles...

Talk ease my nigga, talk E's

Getting hexed tell me get on them records and talk greasy

Chicks like to get in the ear, talk sleazy

Smile in your face, hate talk to CD

If we ain't talking cheese then we ain't talking at all

Please your bra wanna leave after seeing the car keys

Now she's hanging off ...

Now what what

Some Ghetto DMF shit

Tell me what you niggas gonna do

Ghetto DMF shit

Riding around come through

Ghetto DMF shit

Put on with 'em for the crew

Ghetto DMF shit

You know, you know who

Ghetto

Where all the buttnaked strippers at?

She poppin' the trunk I'll but the shotty where her kittens at

Speakers speaking up where I'm sitting at

Nigga freak, nigga bagging bitches for a pic of that (what that thing smell like?)

She ain't tryna hear it

And I would check her ID she smell like teen spirit

Hoes trap you wavy ghetto tek banging in the whip

Godfather better get your bitch playing

They ain't playing with you, better get your bitch playing

Hit the stains watch the whole crowd turn to Rick Flairs

Every thought I have is still the kick snare

Everything I do is for this shit here

Ladies on my nut hair

You cut 'em once, you cut 'em off or cut 'em forever

Scro and square, ho niggas pimpin' proper niggas getting pimped

Be something like a hater pop a shot off on the bench

That's why I don't get caught up in the mix

New techniques, turn the tables

Hit the D with a J lit

Ghetto DEMF where the dealers with the base go

When the bank slow, serving fiends getting pesos

So Ghetto DMF shit

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Enjoy the lyrics !!!