Ghetto to ghetto, backyard to We tear it up y'all, bless the mic the gods (come on) Precious metals round our necks and (yea) We tear it up y'all, the mic with the gods to ghetto, backyard to yard We tear it up y'all, bless the mic with the (come on) metals round our necks and arms (yea) We tear it up y'all, the mic with the gods
(Hook: Hamilton) Whatever in your is where you want to be My is the ghetto Even when you Its never you see My is the ghetto I've been down before up is a reach Cause my hood is the Catch a second Then begin My is the ghetto
(Verse 1: Common) Black magic in the hood, its tragic but addicts, crack windows, crack wood Even whats bad good, status becomes stood Upon the pedestal welcome to the ghetto buildings, pissy hallways filled with children pushing lips peeling, shit seems real and What's is the estate of mind that we're in The situation great My man weight, so he can fill plates You might get but you still feel hate Through and plates, we communicate Chicago to brooklyn nigga ones do relate
(Verse 2: Kweli) If lyrics sold then be told probably be just as rich and famous as jay-z Truthfully I wanna like common sense Next best thing I do a with common sense Cause its the music, its blues, its jazz, its Soul, and roll the hip hop we be producing yea the gear, it's the flare, it's the stare Nowadays they'll shot you where they used to shoot the Remember the soldiers, pour a beer, shoot the air We got our own elected officials, no who the mayor I know you know what I'm talking From New to the South, take off your shoes when you in the house
(Hook)
(Verse 3: Kweli) Yo I grew up where they're skele in the parking lot And paintings of Aaliyah, BIG and Pac up in the barbershop Buildings too big so you don't see the stars a lot But rapping, drinking, and to prison you see them a lot I feel the in the dark and hear it in my heart And always keep my to the block till I dearly depart Hip hop is the art We have to express the of ourselves that make us want to ourselves It harder to tell when somebody you up and put the hammer to you They want them presidents like Stickman and Mutulu With a gun to your jaw, kids don't run anymore Kicks is a hundred or
(Verse 4: Common) A man in front of the store, for money and mercy I him say a prayer under his breath, he cursed me Niggaz is thirsty, I heard it's a Up early, serving from grandmother's house Sometime the feels desolate, yo the eyes of the hood yo is by the deficit, times and lessons get hard get by or get god, but but you try to get by It's like the keep blocking You try to make moves, its like the car just keep We shorties in the court, cochran yea I them why the weed seeds popping, in the game you need No for feet watching, me and kwe keep for the ghetto
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