Story of a Ghetto Boy

Now this the story of a little bitty ghetto boy
Trapped in the ghetto trying to make it out
Now doing anything by any means

I got a mothafuckin' 9 on my hip, 9 on my hip
Shit, oh oh oh oh oh
I gotta make it out this bitch, climb out this ditch
Shit, huh oh oh oh oh
Nothing else need to be said, cops wanna see me dead
But he fled the scene
Learn to be stealth, uh uh uh, learn to be stealth
The ghetto got a plan, it'll take a good man
And it'll turn him into a person with a burner on the shelf
But I'mma take the ghetto's plan and I'mma turn it on itself
Cause I'mma take this ghetto swag and I'mma turn it into wealth
So when the cameras and the lights hit a thug
You might see a product that the white kids'll love
Cause the majority of rap fans is white kids
When a black man make it that's when a dark knight rises

All I ever had was a llama and a dream
Robbin' everything, trying to get cream
No wallet, no dollars in the pockets of my jeans
I was pushing that rock, I was Rondo on my team
Like young nigga hustling, selling from the window
My heart had a fast beat, no slow tempo
I never fuck with snitch niggas giving up the info
Stay on my grind like a nympho get though
But I need more, my whole team need dough
But peep yo, a lot of dudes that I hustled with before, they locked up now
Trying to ball hard so we can score when they touch down
We all trying to get to where freedom is at
Yo we're stuck in the hood, that's why we beez in the trap

Now this the story of a little bitty ghetto boy
Trapped in the ghetto trying to make it out
Now doing anything by any means

Yo, feel like Alicia Keys, I grew up in hell's kitchen
I wasn't dealt a good hand, but I dealt with it
Trying to stay afloat, call me Michael Phelps listen
Better yet, Michael P. cause the help's missin'
Momma's belt whippings kept away the jail sentence
You know the story on pigs, the tale's twisted
When times get hard, time is a dick
I think clocks should be spelled with the "L" missin'
I take you niggas to the Beach where I'm from
L.B. niggas bust chrome heats where I'm from
But y'all ain't listening
The ghetto ass nigga trying to clock that paper
No high school diploma, never got that paper
I'm trying to find escape, trying to find it fast
But if you ain't Tameka Harris then escape is no tiny task

This is the story of a little biddy, a little diddy
My little Kenny's ghetto
Was hard to hold me like a little titty
Plus was feeling shitty riding that intercity Metro
Would pretend my hand was a gun, pull my trigger, that's my thumb
And bust two while thinking fuck you
And aim at every car I seen, shooting at everyone as the bus moves
Thinking I bust too hard to ride on this shit
That's the shit like
Kids screaming which gun do you want me shoot you with
I was talking hammers when that rapper dropped 2 Legit
True as shit, I panhandle for a dollar
In a sense I'm still asking for change
Cuz they don't hear it when a ghetto kid hollers
Sieg is always thinking of?????????

Now this the story of a little bitty ghetto boy
Trapped in the ghetto trying to make it out
Now doing anything by any means

All I ever had was a llama and a dream
Llama and a dream, llama-llama and a dream
All I ever had was a llama and a dream
Llama and a dream, llama-llama and a dream