Текст песни Ghetto Fabulous - Dr. Dre , Mack 10 , Ras Kass
Intro:
Ras
Kass
Once
again,
we
take
over
cash
Ras
Kass,
Dr.
Dre
and
Mack
10
connected.
We
ghetto
fabulous
baby.
The
best
food,
drink
and
pussy
that
money
can
buy.
Verse
One:
Ras
Kass
Every
day
of
my
life
is
off
the
ringer
That's
guaranteed,
like
a
fistfight
on
Jerry
Springer
I
got
the
hottest
flow
to
hit
the
street
since
lava
So
holla,
we
all
hustle
for
dollar
dollars
From
Sac
to
Houston,
New
Orleans
to
D.C.
We
drinkin'
V-S-O-P
(?)
the
beats
beep
Bangin,
catch
me
with
a
dimepiece
next
to
me
My
Body
all
over
Your
Body
like
LSG
Neighborhood
celeb
with
the
keys
to
my
city
like
the
mayor
Rookies
askin
us
how
to
be
a
playa
Get
in
where
you
fit
in,
and
never
get
your
ghetto
pass
revoked
No
matter
how
much
money
you
make
Stay
true
to
the
game
loc,
guest
list
terror
clothes
In
jeans
and
tennis
shoes,
breakin
your
strict
dress
codes
Spit
lyrical
bricks,
thirteen
deep
So
I
can
be
richer
than
Master
P
sellin
'Ghetto
D'
Chorus:
Mack
10
We
Ghetto,
fabulous
Money
make
the
world
go
round
so
let's
handle
this
Ghetto,
fabulous
Broadcastin
live
from
Los
Angeles
We
ghetto,
fabulous
Money
make
the
world
go
round
so
let's
handle
this
Ghetto,
fabulous
Broadcastin
live
from
Los
Angeles
Verse
Two:
Dr.
Dre
You
ain't
heard
of
me,
you
ain't
listenin
hard
enough
Started
in
Compton
servin
from
a
ice
cream
truck
Now
ten
years
later
whippin
a
custom
Navigator
Steppin
on
your
toes
playa,
stuffin
up
your
alligators
I'm
ghetto,
like
Newport
cigarettes,
feel
me
Boom
bap
and
slap
that
ass
silly
This
is
for
the
full
time
students
slash
part
time
strippers
And
young
niggaz,
clockin
at
least
five
figures
Some
of
us
pro
atheletes,
some
of
us
rap
over
fat
beats
Some
of
us
hustle
in
the
streets
Twenty
deep
in
Club
Nikki's
so
you
know
we
gots
to
mingle
Trickin'
(?)
off
a
pocket
full
of
singles,
huh
And
it's
all
bueno,
musical
mafia
like
Frank
Sinatra
Pop
a
thirteen
shot
glock
to
make
you
Go
See
the
Doctor
Ain't
nuttin
nice
>From
hood
to
hood,
love
livin
the
lavish
life
(Chorus)
Verse
Three:
Ras
Kass
Nigga
Stu-B-Doo
in
the
GS,
three
ooh
ooh
Playin
number
two
Tekken,
zero
to
sixty
In
six
point
seven
seconds
*tires
screech*
hangin
out
the
window
Actin
up,
chickenheads
like
"You
doin
fo'
months!"
Flexin
the
Rolex
oyster
perpetual,
thirty-five
diamonds
Across
the
face,
still
eatin
out
foam
cups
and
paper
plates
We
don't
call
it
playa
hatin
in
the
nine-eight,
it's
P.I.
That's
pass
intereference,
automatic
first
down
Want
Juice
like
Tupac,
then
Obey
Your
Thirst
clown
Be
in
the
PJ's
in
NY,
rockin
DK
Mix
EJ
with
OJ,
OK,
we
say
"L.A.
niggaz
got
crazy
came
Like
John
Elway
got
a
superbowl
ring"
The
homies
down
for
whatever,
we
stack
the
chedda
Swiss
bank
accounts,
and
mo'
mozzarella
fella
(Chorus)
Outro:
Ugh!
And
it
don't
stop!
HAHA,
WESTSIDE
RIDERS
BABY,
HAHA!
*Fade
out*
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