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The Ghetto

Artist:Buckshot  Album:Chemistry 

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"How do you make your bread in the ghetto? Baked from the souls of the dead in the Ghetto" "How do you make your bread in the ghetto? Baked from the souls of the dead in the Ghetto" [Buckshot:] I wake up in the morning, start my day From the things that I saw, to things that I say That bring things my way, turn thoughts into action Then turn action to stackin' Up the chips, duck the clips from the stray shots Everyday spots get knocked by the same cops In my neighborhood they say it's good, it's not My neighbors is hoods, and all I see is "Chris Rocks" At night, the same price from the beggar Can they get a dollar just to holla at the bootlegger? Noontime drinking they moonshine Reminiscing about the past, with a bottle to pass The question to ask is how long could this last Before you bombed on your last beers, it's a known fact Cuz, every man in front of a liquor store Got a story ta tell about how he did it more, but listen "How do you make your bread in the ghetto? Baked from the souls of the dead in the Ghetto" "How do you make your bread in the ghetto? Baked from the souls of the dead in the Ghetto" The hood, the block, the ghetto, the spot Is all the same shit to y'all, aim for the top Everyday it's a cop or, cock-blocker Thinkin' he hot, cuz he don't wanna see me rock, but I'm to hard to be soft, to far to be lost You in the mind of a boss, so of course Every time I speak I show you Some of what I did in the past, you now go through For example, in school You had a lot of niggas who cool, but one damn fool


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