Praise for the days when I couldn't get paid In the fix on the mix in the damn projects Cracks for the blacks but I couldn't sell that Even though blacks couldn't get jobs and shit Hit after hit from the Sugarhill Gang Hear a Pow Wow, hear a Big Bank Hank It was strange, I was broke but I still got the record Magnetfolien Even though I was poor and about butt naked Rats in my front room, roaches in the back Junkies in the alley running styles for the crack It was ill on the real, I be still bugging off it In the ways I will walk it so today I can talk it It's a shame how the games in the ghetto get played On the cracks they paid for the tricks they laid I'm afraid for the youth in this time we're living in Just about 13 on the scene scrambling Gambling small-time, apologize nice I'm about to roll 10 7's for the crap I rolled twice Rough business, it's a rich mon time When you ain't got the loot, you resort to the crime From the cess house, the youth house, the jail house, the Cult house Where I perfected these skills I be doggin Love to teach the facts but the brothers in the back Can't see what I'm saying cause the blunt smoke is foggin Still I proceed with degrees of the wisdom Cause this shit's thick, it kicks and I know it Lickle do you know there's a God and so Born just like Christ in a damn ghetto
From ghetto to ghetto, from project to project Bookbag of lessons but I ain't have dough yet From knowledge to wisdom, from wisdom to see And understand me if you don't dance, G It's a god in the house, it's a god in the house And I'm godding it out, and I'm godding it out I've come a long way, the strong way, the wrong way, I lived it The right way, you might say, I got it, I'll give it But praise for the days when I used to be tramp And had to freeload of my Earth's food stamps Til I stopped, paused, start the pop's stores It was ill on the real, but who's to die for us? Say that I rock my own community Ain't a damn thing owned by the you or the me It's Koreans I be seeing on the neighborhood corners With the guns and the stores and love the ??? owners So beg my parton, peace Natasha Harton See I won't forget, I know for shit's starting From my way to LA, from JA to UK I am who I am, I say what I say I gots no time to love a slave trader Cause according to the constitution, they'll always hate us Play this, say this, and say it like I said it Cause a magazine edit can get your ass beheaded I'm thorough breaded, black slave dreaded The shit that y'all doing, I already did it! But lickle do you know there's a God and so Born just like Christ in a damn ghetto
Praise for the days when I used to be trife With a lack of understanding anything about life So thanks to Malcom, Martin, Wylee Ferartin Father Allah talk the talk that I'm starting Peace to Elijah, we can't forget about ya Teaching us how ta, get up out the Project complex caves Another damn rave for the damn ex-slave My ghetto noise ringing from a project hallway Don't want to hear my mom say "Blacks have come a long way" How can she see that when we haven't eaten all day Haven't had a job since the ending of the slave trade Then they give us church, attempt to try and ease this But I check it out, had to learn about Jesus Told em he was black and they called me a hater Then he's on the church wall, yeah like a slave trader Something real funny's going on boy I'll tell ya Send you up sell ya, free ya try to kill ya Martin taught me much when he simply tried to love em Brother all about peace but the devils had to snuff him, but Lickle do you know there's a God and so Born just like Christ in a damn ghetto Lickle do you know there's a God and so Born just like Christ in a damn ghetto
