paroles de chanson Ghetto Stardom - Mac Mall
Now
when
i
just
made
12
years
old
My
mama
told
me:'baby
boy
you
know
you
gotta
be
strong
And
even
though
they
lead
you
wrong
stay
on
the
right
track
Cause
it
ain't
no
get
right
without
some
get
back.'
Yeah
i
heard
that
but
back
then
i
didn't
feel
it
Cause
i
was
rollin'
do
or
die
tryna
see
me
a
ticket
just
kickin'
G
block
i
said
i'll
never
leave
Even
when
the
rollers
chase
me
down
til
i
can't
breathe
Nigga
freeze,
who
me?
oh,
never
that!
I'm
hittin'
fence
after
fence
until
i'm
chillin'
at
my
doormat
Like
a
mack
i
had
to
get
away
Cause
i'm
a
smooth
operator,
ask
shanda
But
the
rollers
in
the
v
is
so
shady
If
they
could,
they
would
plan
something
on
me
But
really,
them
ain't
the
fools
i
gotta
worry
'bout
Cause
white
folks
goin'
loced
in
the
white
house
And
i
doubt
a
republican
or
democrate
Gives
a
fuck
about
us
young
inner
city
blacks
It's
a
trap,
uncle
sam
keeps
cursing
me
Rather
have
me
in
the
pen
than
the
university
Yeah,
it's
a
shame
but
mane,
that's
how
it
is
So
ya
better
peep
game
and
try
to
lace
ya
kids
Cause
it
ain't
no
tellin'
what's
soon
to
come
When
the
punk
president
might
drop
the
bomb
Got
me
all
stressed
out
with
my
brain
on
numb
My
little
cousin
asking
me
where
dope
come
from
Chorus:
They
try
to
tell
us
in
the
verses
and
the
scriptures
But
i
guess
the
real
message
must
have
missed
us
In
'96
all
my
brothers
and
my
sisters
Is
on
a
mission,
we're
trippin'
livin'
senseless
Tell
me,
will
i
see
the
sun
in
days
to
come
Will
blacks
be
the
victors
instead
of
victims
Or
will
my
people
keep
killing
over
fuckin'
crumbs
Pushin'
dope
just
to
reach
ghetto
stardom
If
you
ask
mac
mall
who
i'm
voting
for
I
say:'farrakhan'
as
i'm
hittin'
the
bomb
I
. to
the
swisher
or
the
dohja
spliff
Get
elevated
to
another
as
i
reminisce
About
fresh
candy
paint
and
peanut
butter
tops
Young
hustlers
havin'
paper,
livin'
top
notch
And
then
the
d-game
straight
decline
And
all
you
sawyer
turf
niggas
makin'
headlines
10
o'clock
news
or
america's
most
Unsolved
mysteries,
you
better
soak
some
dope
Then
the
judge
starts
droppin'
the
injuries
On
all
the
gangstas,
playahs,
macks
and
g's
And
you
know
you
wont
see
'em
til
about
2 thou'
Cause
ya
boy
got
washed
with
a
faulty
assed
trial
But
at
least
one
day
he
gone
be
free
Some
soldiers
ain't
never
gonna
see
the
streets
That's
why
i
keep
servin'
game
over
my
beats
So
all
my
people,
in
and
out,
can
straight
feel
me
Chorus
There
is
nowhere
for
me
to
run
Nowhere
for
me
to
hide
from
reality
But
i
don't
wanna
be
a
casualty
Of
another
tryna
smother
a
brother
just
cause
my
salary
And
dog,
i
tell
ya
that
these
times'
so
sick
That
my
sister's
smoking
dohja,
8 months
pregnant
My
brother
bubble
on
the
grind
and
he's
way
legit
Working
on
his
third
strike
and
he
still
won't
quit
But
i
can't
tell
him
nuttin'
bout
a
salary
job
So
in
order
to
get
tha
paper
the
boy
gotta
mob
or
sob
All
will
fall
to
the
waistside
While
the
rollers
overlook
they
wanna
take
lifes
Youngstas
they
gettin'
raised
off
the
t.v.
Got
white
kids
around
the
country
wanna
be
me
And
the
way
they
point
the
finger
ain't
even
shob
Television
replace
religion,
now
the
gangsta's
god
And
old
folks
wonder
why
we
so
crazy
90
knuckleheads
and
70
high
babies
And
can't
nobody
tell
me
that
i'm
wrong
Uncle
sam
finding
ways
to
fit
computer
chips
in
my
dome
So
i
should
ask
before
you
slip
See
it's
higher
than
the
ultimate
trip
Chorus
You
know,
dedicated
to
dj
cee,
s-double
the
mac
Reach
ghetto
stardom
1 Intro
2 Lets Get a Telly
3 Straight Lace
4 Servin Game
5 Young Nigga
6 Dopefiend's Lullaby
7 Ghetto Stardom
8 Get Right
9 Playas Wit da Choppas
10 Get Away
11 Pimp or Die
12 Untouchable
13 Opening Doors
14 Playa Tip
15 Crestside
16 Outro
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