Lil' Ghetto Boy Lyrics - Chronicles: Death Row Classics - Dr. Dre

So, all of you Africans, all of you Africans that wanna do thangs 

That's workin' for other people, y'all need to open your own business 

Save your money, quit payin' motherfuckers with jheri curls 

Quit payin' motherfuckers with perms 

Save your money, start your own business 

And you true Africans, will have put hundreds to work 

This is our future right here, this our future right here 

Hey, I'ma tell you right now, if, if, if I have to die today 

For this little African right here to have a future 

I'm a dead motherfucker 

Wake up, jumped out my bed 

Hung in a two 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? 

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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 

Uhh too late, damn, down goes another nigga 

Bouncing off the walls, throwing them dogs 

Getting a rep as a young hog 

It ain't nuttin' like the street life 

You betta be strapped wit yo shank 'cuz ain't no fist fight 

So I guess I gots the handle mine 

Since I did the crime, I gots ta do my time 

Them say me grow up to be nuttin' 

Look at me now what do you see 

I am what I am it's only me 

Lil' ghetto boy 

Playing in the ghetto streets 

What'cha gonna do when you grow up 

And have to face responsibility? 

Now, I'm 'trolling the dove, sitting on swoll 

27 years old, off on 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 but it's alright 

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 wit 'cause I'm down respect trip 

Nigga, I'm bigger than you, so what'cha wanna do? 

Didn't know he had a 22 

Straight sitting behind his back 

I grabed his pockets and then I heard six caps 

I fell to the ground with blood on my hands 

I didn't understand 

How a nigga so young could bust a cap 

I used to be the same way back 

I guess that's what I get 

For trying to jack the little homies for they grip 

Me learn many things of 

What me see from the streets 

The outcome of what I come to be 

Lil' ghetto boy 

Playing in the ghetto streets 

What'cha gonna do when you grow up 

And have to face responsibility? 

Something for the real O.G.'s to get wit 

Some facts made our made now you wanna run and play 

Like every single day, really doe, you know me 

I'm the smooth macadamien, 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 but 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 four years in the county wit nuttin' 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 grip 

And now me life as you can see 

Still an O.G. for life 

And always remain to be 

Lil' ghetto boy 

Playing in the ghetto streets 

What'cha gonna do when you grow up 

And have to face responsibility?