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Текст песни Mac Mall - Ghetto Stardom

Mac Mall - Ghetto Stardom слова песни

Now when I just made 12 years oldMy mama told me:`Baby boy, you know you gotta be strongAnd even though they lead you wrong, stay on the right trackCause it ain`t no get right without some get back.`Yeah, I heard that, but back then I didn`t feel itCause I was rollin` do or die, tryna see me a ticket, just kickin`G-block, I said I`ll never leaveEven when the rollers chase me down til I can`t breatheNigga freeze, who me? Oh, never that!I`m hittin` fence after fence until I`m chillin` at my doormatLike a mack I had to get awayCause I`m a smooth operator, ask ShandaBut the rollers in the V is so shadyIf they could, they would plan something on meBut really, them ain`t the fools I gotta worry `boutCause white folks goin` loced in the white houseAnd I doubt a republican or democrateGives a fuck about us young inner city blacksIt`s a trap, Uncle Sam keeps cursing meRather have me in the pen than the universityYeah, it`s a shame but mane, that`s how it isSo ya better peep game and try to lace ya kidsCause it ain`t no tellin` what`s soon to comeWhen the punk president might drop the bombGot me all stressed out with my brain on numbMy little cousin asking me where dope come fromChorus:They try to tell us in the verses and the scripturesBut I guess the real message must have missed usIn `96 all my brothers and my sistersIs on a mission, we`re trippin` livin` senselessTell me, will I see the sun in days to comeWill blacks be the victors instead of victimsOr will my people keep killing over fuckin` crumbsPushin` dope just to reach ghetto stardomIf you ask Mac Mall who I`m voting forI say:`Farrakhan` as I`m hittin` the bombI .. to the swisher or the dohja spliffGet elevated to another as I reminisceAbout fresh candy paint and peanut butter topsYoung hustlers havin` paper, livin` top notchAnd then the D-game straight declineAnd all you Sawyer turf niggas makin` headlines10 o`clock news or America`s mostUnsolved mysteries, you better soak some dopeThen the judge starts droppin` the injuriesOn all the gangstas, playahs, macks and G`sAnd you know you wont see `em til about 2 thou`Cause ya boy got washed with a faulty assed trialBut at least one day he gone be freeSome soldiers ain`t never gonna see the streetsThat`s why I keep servin` game over my beatsSo all my people, in and out, can straight feel meChorusThere is nowhere for me to runNowhere for me to hide from realityBut I don`t wanna be a casualtyOf another tryna smother a brother just cause my salaryAnd dog, I tell ya that these times` so sickThat my sister`s smoking dohja, 8 months pregnantMy brother bubble on the grind and he`s way legitWorking on his third strike and he still won`t quitBut I can`t tell him nuttin` bout a salary jobSo in order to get tha paper the boy gotta mob or sobAll will fall to the waistsideWhile the rollers overlook they wanna take lifesYoungstas they gettin` raised off the T.V.Got white kids around the country wanna be meAnd the way they point the finger ain`t even shobTelevision replace religion, now the gangsta`s godAnd old folks wonder why we so crazy90 knuckleheads and 70 high babiesAnd can`t nobody tell me that I`m wrongUncle Sam finding ways to fit computer chips in my domeSo I should ask before you slipSee it`s higher than the ultimate tripChorus You know, dedicated to DJ Cee, S-Double the MacReach Ghetto Stardom

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