Lil Ghetto Boy Lyrics

Wake up, jumped out my bed
Hung in a 2 man cell wit my homie Lil 1/2 Dead
Murder was the case that they gave me
Dear God, I wonder can you save me
I'm only 18, so I'm a young buck
It's a ride, if I don't scrap, I'm getting stuck
But that's the life of a G, I guess
Ese's way deep, shanked two in they chest
Bests run 'cause brothers is dropping quicker
Ugh, too late, damn, down goes another nigga
Bouncing off the walls, throwing them dogs
Getting a rep as a young hog
It ain't nothing like the street life
Betta be strapped wit yo shank, 'cause ain't no fist fight
So I guess I gots to handle mine
Since I did the crime, I gots ta do my timeLil' ghetto boy
Playing in the ghetto streets
What'cha gonna do when you grow up

And have to face responsibilityNow, I'm holding a dove, sitting on swoll
27 years old, up for parole, stroll
I'm back up on my feet wit my mind on the money
That I'm making as soon as I touch the street
Things done changed on this side
Remember they used to thump but now they blast, right
But it ain't no thing to me
'Cause now I'm what they call a loced-assed O.G.
The little homies from the hood wit grip
Are the ones I get with cause I'm down to set-trip
Nigga, I'm bigger than you, so what ya want to do
Didn't know we had a 22
Straight sitting behind his back
I'm grab his pockets and then I heard six caps
I fell to the ground wit blood on my hands
I didn't understand
How a nigga so young could bust a cap
I use to be the same way back
I guess that's what I get (for what)
For trying to jack them little homies for they breadLil' ghetto boy
Playing in the ghetto streets
What'cha gonna do when you grow up
And have to face responsibilitySomething for the real OG's to get wit
Some facts, made our made, now you want to run and play
Like every single day, really doe
You know me, I'm the smooth macadamia, gaming them for my homie
No need to be uncalm if you pack right
And learning just enough to keep your sack right
Late nights, I wonder what they getting fo'
Early morning on the corners, what they hitting fo'
Seven young G's put they serve down
In a jeep ride, east side what they swerve now
Not thinking about what's really going on
Got crept on, stepped on, now they gone
I spent 4 years in the county wit nutting but convicts around me
But now I'm back at the pound
And we expose ways for the youth to survive
Some think it's wrong but we tend to think it's right
So make all them ends you can make
'Cause when you're broke, you break, check it out
So ain't no need for your mama to trip
'Cause you's a hustling ass youngsta, clocking your gripLil' ghetto boy
Playing in the ghetto streets
What'cha gonna do when you grow up
And have to face responsibility
Songwriters
CALVIN BROADUS, EARL DEROUEN, EDDY HOWARD, TRACY CURRYPublished by
Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc. Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.