From The Ghetto

[Intro]
Oh, I'd rather had been born a rich man
With a life that was so filled with joy
I would've liked to have been educated (Uh)
I would've liked for people to come and bring me toys
Let me tell you about it
I came direct from the ghetto

[Verse 1]
7-1-8, the Queens borough, the E train
I'm from the ghetto, never even thought I'd see fame
Hillcrest High, D'Xplicit my street name
Master of Ceremony and dope with my beat game
Niggas imprisoned, decisions made in an instant
For me, I was lookin' to build a billion dollar imprint
I had exotic cars and bitches on my wishlist
Uncles that hustled and taught me handle my business
Crack vials before the Ziploc baggies
Twelve-twelve skinnys had the crackheads aggie
We stole hoopties, some of us sold loosie
And now I'm in the telly like all I know is groupies
All I know is I was born broke
And I ain't have a wicked jump shot so I dunked my song notes
High school dropout, some call me a failure
But look at all this hun'ed thousand dollar paraphernalia
I'm talkin' all solid gold
Sit back, relax as my story gets told
Ran away from home, Christmas Eve in the cold
That's when I became a man at 15 years old
Moms lost control and Pops was rollin' stoned

[Interlude]
I believe you should know
Lord, I believe you should know (Uh)

[Verse 2]
I grew up in the threw up, the place where babies is found in sewers
For funerals, we suit up for parties that niggas shoot up
Young black male, a.k.a. the screw up
Telephone wires fallen soldiers, throw a shoe up
From Skips to Pumas, no Twitter beefs or rumors
The ghetto, where too much talk could leave you with tumors
Pops in and out, so the crib was unstable
Guess that's why my chick be on my dick is unfaithful
Elections all rigged, we never voted for a fuckin' thing
All we wanted was the Knicks to get a fuckin' ring
Big brother in the sky, I'm tryna win
And I don't have regrets, so I embrace my sins

[Interlude]
I came, direct from the ghetto

[Verse 3]
Yellow tape on the sidewalk
A couple grammies and a killin' all the side talk
Bitch niggas hate to see you growin' fly off
Crabs in the barrel, in the past like a shadow
The hood gave me culture, stamina, and bravado
That's why you on the outside, window shoppin' for models
I got a plan for some brand new shit
My own bank, I'm developin' the blue print
Haha, uh
You couldn't walk a mile in my shoe print
This is structure, look at what the avenue did
Flyin' private, vacations on islands
And I ain't talkin' Rikers, I got neighbors in the Caymans
Shwanky real estate crib next to Wes Craven's
Nightmare on every street, nightmare on every beat

[Outro]
There's a whole lot of children down there
Lost in the ghett—
Lost in the ghett—
Lost in the ghett—, in the ghetto