Straight From Da Ghetto-Lost Boyz

The rap skills they flow just like water from a faucet I been here from Queens, thought I lost it Well I've been waiting, hibernating It's mad peoples eyeing on the streets, so with the streets I'm debating, see The government is one some ill skit That's why my peoples sling rocks, they bust shots, either kill, kid So yo, we need to face the fact, black Once a fellow blows from the ghetto, see there's no turning back My mom dukes needs she need some loot, I can't seed it That's why I do my thing here, so I can be there I'm on this lane, and I'm talking from the slum Cuz the Cheeks is from the slum and from the slum is here I come Aiyo, I thought I'd give it to ya Peoples try to hold the fam back because they felt we couldn't do it Aiyo, I live out in the gutter Now you see how long it takes for Cheeks to make butter Coming straight from the ghetto Aiyo, I come from the ghetto, I live for the ghetto I even cry for the ghetto Aiyo, I might have a verse for the ghetto That means I might have to die for the ghetto The rough times will remain in my brain I make it hard to maintain, tearing clowns out the frame I been away for mad peoples thought I fell But I just came back from my visit in hell I seen the demon and we chatted, about this and that And other foul things that never mattered He said it's time to get ya props But still watch ya back from jealous fellas and them crooked type cops So yo I did what he got it, police never reported The day they found my little man Shawn snorted Some kids slit his throat for a little coke But we caught the suspect, 911 is a joke But listen that's how it goes on the street, man You can't be beat, us real fellas gotta eat With selling drugs, busting shots, how local thugs Money we divided, now they works under works from the ghetto I represent for the borough of Queens Getting out of state money, hang on Uptown scenes I hit the Bronx just to boogie with my aunts Then I burst out to Brooklyn, haven't been there in months I see the crews, smoking blunts, drinking bew It'll be for my cousin Lou, I'm out about two Right now I push a napsack, with some Timbs But I'm soon to push a black Ac' with deep dish rims Yo, Big Dex hits me off with the fat beats Rest in Peace to Tyrone from the back streets Our God, won't press in fiend time My ni**a named Chris and big Craig why they die? Aiyo, I can't forget the shorty, her name was Ebony She got smoked in 40 and it made mad noise But listen that's how it goes When niggas fight to make room For elbows, when running the ghetto