P. Diddy - Young G's lyrics

Uh, check it out, uh I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee! f** all that pretty sh** Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherf**ers n***as know the deal n***as know who the Don is Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one Peep game, uhh, what, what Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars Come f** with these stars up in luxury cars We built them radars to stay free from the cops Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop Are we gonna stop? sh** man never my squad go broke Your squad arti-choke Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show n***a I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre Through hard work I earn the vault Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt Got nice watches nice cars nice b**hes and rings Guess it's safe to say a n***a like me got nice things Can't relate to motherf**ers, who ain't go no cake When you all f**ed up, and can't get no break When your fake a** friends, don't help you out when you need it Be on some real bullsh**, politely tell you to beat it f** that, get your own n***a, don't ask me for sh** That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits n***a it's on for the simple fact I let it be known We still fly but separately cause now I, charter my own Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us Why n***as bring the ruckus? Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherf**ers Just some ghetto boys Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive It's just reality Yeah, make you a deal, check These here's the dog years and motherf**ers don't shed I try to bring you life but motherf**ers want dead So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head I been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread Some say I been here before because of the way I zone Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome Reoccurring, that he thinks like that cause he's observing Won't be known until I'm gone and n***as study my bones Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own In the physical, one seems, like a lost body In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me to the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me cause I got it locked like the late Bob Marley Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone n***as that got k**ed in the field and all the babies born Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters You walk em through it, you know, talk em through it Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school) I hated algebra but I loved to multiply And I told my n***a Big I'd be multi' before I die It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way Just some ghetto boys Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive It's just reality Damn it feel good to see people up on it Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it My brain is haunted, with mean dreams GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer than Richie, quickly, n***as wanna hit me If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat High caliber gats is all I f** with, now peep the rough sh** in my circumference, mad b**hes, with mad lucci Bulletproof vestes under they coochie Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigga n***as represent Drivin dirty in J-30's gettin' bent And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me While you still k**in' n***as with punany, like heiny and Cyrus up in Cypress f** you raw you on the floor with the virus While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it Them country n***as call me Frank White I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my sh**'s tight Sunrise open my eyes no surprise Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs With all the utensils, who hang my china thing She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental The situation ain't accidental What? From a, from a young G's perspective What? From a, from a young G's perspective Just some ghetto boys Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive It's just reality Just some ghetto boys Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive It's just reality