Текст песни Poor Righteous Teachers - Ghetto We Love
Poor Righteous Teachers - Ghetto We Love слова песни
Roots!Praise for the days when I couldn`t get paidIn the fix on the mix in the damn projectsCracks for the blacks but I couldn`t sell thatEven though blacks couldn`t get jobs and shitHit after hit from the Sugarhill GangHear a Pow Wow, hear a Big Bank HankIt was strange, I was broke but I still got the recordEven though I was poor and about butt nakedRats in my front room, roaches in the backJunkies in the alley running styles for the crackIt was ill on the real, I be still bugging off itIn the ways I will walk it so today I can talk itIt`s a shame how the games in the ghetto get playedOn the cracks they paid for the tricks they laidI`m afraid for the youth in this time we`re living inJust about 13 on the scene scramblingGambling small-time, apologize niceI`m about to roll 10 7`s for the crap I rolled twiceRough business, it`s a rich mon timeWhen you ain`t got the loot, you resort to the crimeFrom the cess house, the youth house, the jail house, the Cult houseWhere I perfected these skills I be dogginLove to teach the facts but the brothers in the backCan`t see what I`m saying cause the blunt smoke is fogginStill I proceed with degrees of the wisdomCause this shit`s thick, it kicks and I know itLickle do you know there`s a God and soBorn just like Christ in a damn ghettoFrom ghetto to ghetto, from project to projectBookbag of lessons but I ain`t have dough yetFrom knowledge to wisdom, from wisdom to seeAnd understand me if you don`t dance, GIt`s a god in the house, it`s a god in the houseAnd I`m godding it out, and I`m godding it outI`ve come a long way, the strong way, the wrong way, I lived itThe right way, you might say, I got it, I`ll give itBut praise for the days when I used to be trampAnd had to freeload of my Earth`s food stampsTil I stopped, paused, start the pop`s storesIt was ill on the real, but who`s to die for us?Say that I rock my own communityAin`t a damn thing owned by the you or the meIt`s Koreans I be seeing on the neighborhood cornersWith the guns and the stores and love the ??? ownersSo beg my parton, peace Natasha HartonSee I won`t forget, I know for shit`s startingFrom my way to LA, from JA to UKI am who I am, I say what I sayI gots no time to love a slave traderCause according to the constitution, they`ll always hate usPlay this, say this, and say it like I said itCause a magazine edit can get your ass beheadedI`m thorough breaded, black slave dreadedThe shit that y`all doing, I already did it!But lickle do you know there`s a God and soBorn just like Christ in a damn ghettoPraise for the days when I used to be trifeWith a lack of understanding anything about lifeSo thanks to Malcom, Martin, Wylee FerartinFather Allah talk the talk that I`m startingPeace to Elijah, we can`t forget about yaTeaching us how ta, get up out theProject complex cavesAnother damn rave for the damn ex-slaveMy ghetto noise ringing from a project hallwayDon`t want to hear my mom say "Blacks have come a long way"How can she see that when we haven`t eaten all dayHaven`t had a job since the ending of the slave tradeThen they give us church, attempt to try and ease thisBut I check it out, had to learn about JesusTold em he was black and they called me a haterThen he`s on the church wall, yeah like a slave traderSomething real funny`s going on boy I`ll tell yaSend you up sell ya, free ya try to kill yaMartin taught me much when he simply tried to love emBrother all about peace but the devils had to snuff him, butLickle do you know there`s a God and soBorn just like Christ in a damn ghettoLickle do you know there`s a God and soBorn just like Christ in a damn ghetto