Buckshot - The Ghetto lyrics

"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" [Buckshot] 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 pa** 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" "How do you make your bread in the ghetto? Baked from the souls of the dead in the Ghetto" The hood, the block, the ghetto, the spot Is all the same sh** to y'all, aim for the top Everyday it's a cop or, co*k-blocker Thinkin' he hot, cuz he don't wanna see me rock, but I'm to hard to be soft, to far to be lost You in the mind of a boss, so of course Every time I speak I show you Some of what I did in the past, you now go through For example, in school You had a lot of n***as who cool, but one damn fool Who, had a snake in the gra** mind state He young he make pape, but he's making it fast so wait He serve fiends and he's taking it past the weight He's thirteen and today he just past his weight And up-state another fat man masturbate Cuz he get paid while we stay asleep, but he fast awake "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" Everyday is a struggle in life to get paid Some gotta get played, just to get played On the radio and on the videos, in fact Even if the host is black, they still practice White supremacy, you might remember Or you might not, and my mic's hot from that energy So, pay close attention to the facts That you recognize the real to recognize the ?actors? Plastic body bags, in my lobby pa** Me everyday, I'm used to it so I lollygag Bleeding thru the daily plot up Damn, another n***a beat up and shot up He'd have been hot, but, he stopped rapping And he started selling crack in the Ramada What's gotta change, f** making change make a dollar If you don't make it out the hood, you don't bother "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"