Ghetto Boy Lyrics - King Los

I got that, B-More in me yeah that's my problem 

(what what) 

I rep my city, yeah bitch I got em 

(na-na-na) 

Fuck what you heard, niggas be wildin' 

You got me fucked up, I'm from the bottom 

Oh yes lord! 

Walk like I'm pimpin, talk like I'm mackin' 

The projects love me, yeah boy what's happenin' 

I'm finna kill em, I'm finna kill em 

I'm on a hunnid, I'm a hit the ceiling 

I'm thinkin 

Fuck these bitches, we go for dollars 

And my, my brothers keep a bitch and nino at the collar 

The equalizer bitch I'm deeper, wiser, handsome, smarter 

They call an ambulance yo' ass don't stand a chance in Sparta 

Oh no no! 

I'm out the west side, just ask my grandma 

I used to move the pack, had a pack of blamma 

My niggas stacked with AKA's and ain't no Capa Gama 

And now we laughing to the bank like na-na-na-na 

Fuck with me! 

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No sunshine or feeling better (the ghetto) 

Watch em all scatter they'll kill each other (the ghetto) 

If yo daddy dead, can't make him proud in (the ghetto) 

Damn little boy, how you make it out of (the ghetto) 

I got that hustlers desire, that fire burning 

I got that Boyz n The Hood mixed with that higher learning 

Na-na-na 

Niggas is bugging, niggas ain't fucking with me 

They not on my planet, why should I panic, motherfuckers should be 

Thanking the lord that I'm building the ships so you niggas won't drown 

In the midst of the flood 

Cuz I'm giving you prophecy, niggas ain't watching me properly, bitch I be switching it up 

Like a gear on a bike 

Play if you want, say what you want, hear what you like 

But take what you need, cause they dear to your life 

Fake if you want, I'll be there on the flight 

Like 

Free my ghetto, we the ghetto 

Real boy, cut the strings, we don't need Geppetto 

They say there's levels to this shit, well you can't see my level 

This a reach, you would need the devil, he would need a shovel 

Bitch I'm deep 

All I beat is odds, all I get is that 

At least I know 

All I need is God, and I can breach the gap, Keyshia Cole 

OMG, he's so cold, I know it's me, at least I'm told 

Los bring rap back to life, this shit needs some soul! 

You can ask my grandma 

I roll because I miss my dad, you can ask my mama 

They shot my nigga in the head, ain't no happy camper 

Now I'm the best rapper alive, na-na-na-na-na-na 

Fuck with me! 

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Lost souls and dope fiends (the ghetto) 

From what we're told there ain't no kings in (the ghetto) 

Gun shots and caution tape (the ghetto) 

Why is an honest dollar so hard to make in (the ghetto)