Mr. Serv-on - Tryin' To Make It Out Da Ghetto lyrics

[Master P] I'm visualizing studios with forty-eight tracks Ghettos and hoods and economies and cutbacks Riase your guns up high if your fearing debt f** the police, they smoke them like a cigarette Must have been a f**ing organ donor Because they left him in the projects to die with his eyes open Oh god, don't take my only dog But them n***as drove up like a f**ing hog Some chase, a n***a ran him through the hood Eighteen shots left my homie in some pine wood Another end in dope game battle with a gat Rat-a-tat-tat n***a who gonna be next? So smile for my homie, Rando To many n***as out here get caught up in scandals I'm living like a rat trying to get some cheese But I'm getting on my knees cause god don't let it be me next [Chorus] Tryin to make it out this ghetto, uhhhhhhhhhh [x4] [Mr. Serv-On] Twenty-four seconds till your last smile Bullets to your face Them n***as you grew with, and bang with saw you take your last f**ing mile I'm hugging your only child with your strap by my side Murder in my eyes, no time to cry, somebody gots to die The night you left I said my prayers for the last time God forgive me, before I leave this world I'm taking somebody with me These n***as don't give a f** about me or you That's why I snatch my f**ing shirt off and show you that I'm TRU You told me be a soldier to the end, I can't pretend In my sleep I see my cousins eyes, why he have to die? Six g's by his side now we gotta ride I hope I make it out this ghetto to that other side [Chorus x4] [Mac] All I can say is why two times at night I cry We live and die, maybe it was stress I was driven by I done seen some funerals in my short stay On planet Earth, we live on this white chalkway This life is streets feenin, the type of sh** you witness on CNN Me and my n***as seen it at first hand And even worse man it's n***as I know That this life was beautiful place and all my soldiers trying to go But I'm too young, you gotta be at least twenty-one I know some youngsters, who creppin' now it must have been fun Cause none of them returned, forever fly, or forever burned Fools concerned with the way we learn in these streets Lord forgive us, the blood flows like the Mississippi River That h*mocide was what took him with us I'm on the corner strapped up waiting for the devil And if I die, I still make it out the ghetto [Chorus x3]