THE TRUE GHETTO

 

VERSE  1 (N Squared)

Open up to a new chapter

Hotties coming up outta the rafters like a lap dancer

If your question needs an answer, then ask sir

Or be content to just listen to my laughter

Welcome to the city of Park

We hit it from backdoor I been known to grapple and smack hoes

No remorse I endorse mixing crack with the dro

On a mantle in the back of a chapel

Just a sample of a damn flow OD's you ‘til you're drooling like an asshole

‘Til I'm that close to pulling the pin

Light this motherfucking bitch up like a candle, bring it back yo

Welcome to the city of Park

You're un-cool if you don't feel like a fool yet

Put this bitch up-in reverse to the verse I just dispersed when I put a curse

On you your household like Romeo and Juliet

Attack hard, drag you to my backyard

Leave your limbs scattered like a stack of cards

Whip you with my motherfucking black belt and leave black scars

Leave your ass charred like Nascar

‘Cause when you pass Park, all you see is

Bitches smoking on the hydro while the 5-0’s

Driving by with their eyes closed

They just don't give a damn if you buy dro or buy coke

I'm known for lacing up lines like some rhinestones

Heavy on the cocaine, I got no brain, heating up like propane

Feeling more pain growing on me like some Rogaine

Ask me if I give a damn yo, and I’ll say no mang

‘Cause when you're living in SLP

You’re brewing a recipe to rest in peace

‘Cause when you mess with me

Or A-bomb you'll get popped like extasy

I'd guess that it's best you leave

‘Cause when I'm restless, I'm like Heston, see

I wanna test this heat

Run up in your classroom Smith and Wesson, G

Put a bullet in your chest and leave it there for the rest to see

 

VERSE 2 (A-Bomb)

Grades K-12, we’re just a blur

And now I’m coming on the scene and you must’ve heard

You homies thought we would stop it, you fucking knew I would drop it

And now isn’t that absurd, the way you

The way you look at me now without disgust

I’m proud to say I’ve gotten out

I’ve also gotten semi-rotten artificial lines

Down on paper that I’ve written but I just don’t have the time

And self-esteem is at an all-time low

And maybe I’d feel better if I grew a ‘fro

Or sagged my pants and learned to dance under control

Or gave up rants and moved to France and made some dough

But all these ideas are good as driving a Kia

In a race against Ferraris

But I’m good at eating dust, and for those of you who trust
The things I say, I’m sorry

I left Park for the big Minneap

But it doesn’t mean I hesitate to use a gat

And I’ll crack your ass with a baseball bat

And I’ll leave your face looking like a ‘Ew, what’s that?’

That’s what happens to anybody with any money

Or anything of value, sack of weed or valiums

Fully embrace desperation

The comeback of Mase is just commercialization

Caucasian Invasion, we coulda gone platinum

With nice-ass studios, one day we’ll have ‘em

For now you just hear the crumpling of paper

When we going big?  I don’t know, maybe later