Wake up, jumped out my bed I'm in a two man cell with my homie Lil' 1/2 Dead Murder was the case that they gave me Dear God, I wonder can you save me? I'm only eighteen, so I'm a young buck It's a ride, if I don't scrap, I'm gettin' stuck But that's the life of G, I guess Ese's way deep, shanked two in the chest Best run cause brothers is droppin' quicker Ugn, too late, damn, down goes another nigga Bouncin' off the walls, throwin' them dogs Gettin' that rep as a young hog It ain't nothin' like the street life You better be strapped with your shank Cause ain't no fist fight So I guess I gots to handle mine Since I did the crime, I gots to do my time
Chorus:
We run game in the ghetto We gets high in the ghetto We gets shot in the ghetto You might get stuck in the ghetto Lil' Ghetto Boy
Dr. Dre:
Now I'm holdin' the dub, sittin' on swoll Twenty-seven years old, up for parole, stroll I'm back up on my feet with my mind on the money That I be makin' soon as I touch them streets Things done changed on this side Remember they used to thump, but now they blast, right? But it ain't no thang to me Cause now I'm what they call a loced ass O.G. The little homies from the hood with grip Are the ones I get with cause I'm down to set trip Nigga, I'm bigger than you, so whatcha wanna do? Didn't know he had a twenty-two Straight sittin' behind his back I grabbed 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 what?) For tryin' to jack the little homies for they grip
Chorus
Snoop Doggy Dogg:
Somethin' for the real O.G.'s to get with Some facts made our made Now you runnin' but I'm played Like every single day, really doe You know me, I'm the smooth macadamian Gamin'em for my homie No need in be uncalm, if you pack right And learnin' just enough to keep your sack tight Late nights, I wonder what they get in for? Early mornin' on the corners, what they hittin' for? Seven young G's put they serve down In a G ride, Eastside's where they swerve now Not thinkin' about what's really goin' on Got crept on, stepped on, now they gone I spent four years in the county With nothin' 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 hustlin' ass youngsta, clockin' your grip
Chorus
Lil' Ghetto Boy
That's the life of a G, I guess The ghetto. x3
That's the life of a G That's the life of a G, I guess The ghetto. x3
That's the life of a G. The ghetto That's the life of a G, I guess The ghetto