Ghetto

"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"

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"



Credits
Writer(s): K. Blake, Patrick Douthit, Patrick Denard Douthit
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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