Rich Boy and John Legend - Ghetto Rich

Let me take you through my hood where I was born and raised
Where niggas tote semi-automatics, busting them K's
Heavy guns and dope funds and raids by the police
Still getting pulled over and asked by the police
'Bama wasn't made for a nigga to win
See the color of your skin get you put in the pen
It's real life, over dice, Dwayne dead and gone
Sending niggas to the pen or the funeral home
I be feeling like the Lord will never answer me back
So I'm holding on my gat just in case they attack
Bullet holes in your house will make it hard to sleep
You see the fiends on the street want the hard for cheap
A lot of niggas doing life from undercovers and fake friends
It's real how them penitentiary bars'll break men
Niggas doing life from undercovers and fake friends
It's real how them penitentiary bars'll break men

It's where you live, it's where you play
It's where you learn your favorite slang
Your world is ghetto
It's where I live; it's where I'm from
It's where you had to tote your gun
Your world is ghetto

I could never win an Oscar cause I don't know how to act
Saw my first million dollars and I ain't know how to act
Then the second million came, then more came after that
Then more came after that, hurricane after that
Damn! And y'all saw the aftermath
And in my hood we don't front, so I do give back
When you see a hood nigga you gotta tilt your hat
And since I'm a hood nigga, I do just that
Ogs used to tell me: "You just rap
Lil' nigga all you need to do is rap"
And just when I thought I was gon' do just that
Poppa was a Rolling Stone and them stones was crack
Fuck being like Mike I wanna be like pop
Then I picked up a mic I wanna be like 'Pac
Please put down the pipe you don't need that rock
Please put up a fight for the kids that watch
Us in the spotlight and then they mock
But caskets get closed and then they drop
And cases get closed and they are dropped
'Cause no one knows and nobody got
Any out no N-O, that they better not
Three words to a witness: they get shot
Let me tell you what this is, this is the block
Always talk to God, never listen to cops

It's where you live, it's where you play
It's where you learn your favorite slang
Your world is ghetto
It's where I live; it's where I'm from
It's where you had to tote your gun
Your world is ghetto

It's cool to love to win but it's better to hate to lose
There's only one Nas 'bout a hundred thousand yous
You lose money chasing women, never lose women chasing money
Niggas is broke plus the wolves is hungry
Morgues full of dead niggas who was taking money
Morgues full of niggas with the last shit they ate in stomach
Spinach and steak. Gore-tex boot prints still on his face
It's still on his face when we visit his wake
Whatever's undone I'd do it, fight against a whole army
One gun I'll use it, some Sun Tzu shit
Creeping on ya like walking pneumonia
You're far from opponents; we could spar for the moments
I stay in deceitful conversations with creeps with foul natures
Attempted murders trials, the basics
Threatening the witnesses and relatives of dead victims
It's the shit we live, uh
Queensbridge thug matrimony, clap a phony
Bullets even hit a cracker in his Abercrombie
Psychoanalyst was asking me what happened to me?
See the yak got to me, then the gat got to me
Then the homies on the block with the stacks of money
Then these beautiful bitches was bending backwards for me
Then lames put the rap game in a casket slowly
Man I don't give a fuck, this is rap to me

Written by:
Jamal F. Jones, Marece Benjamin Richards, Mykell Mcintosh

Publisher:
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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