Komplex - Story Of A Ghetto Boy lyrics

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Komplex - Story Of A Ghetto Boy lyrics

[Hook: Kobe] Now this the story of a little bitty ghetto boy Trapped in the ghetto trying to make it out Now doing anything by any means [Verse 1: Demetrius Capone] I got a mothaf**in' 9 on my hip, 9 on my hip sh**, oh oh oh oh oh I gotta make it out this b**h, climb out this ditch sh**, huh oh oh oh oh Nothing else need to be said, cops wanna see me dead But he fled the scene Learn to be stealth, uh uh uh, learn to be stealth The ghetto got a plan, it'll take a good man And it'll turn him into a person with a burner on the shelf But I'mma take the ghetto's plan and I'mma turn it on itself Cause I'mma take this ghetto swag and I'mma turn it into wealth So when the cameras and the lights hit a thug You might see a product that the white kids'll love Cause the majority of rap fans is white kids When a black man make it that's when a dark knight rises [Verse 2: Andrew 'Dice' Dinero] All I ever had was a llama and a dream Robbin' everything, trying to get cream No wallet, no dollars in the pockets of my jeans I was pushing that rock, I was Rondo on my team Like young n***a hustling, selling from the window My heart had a fast beat, no slow tempo I never f** with snitch n***as giving up the info Stay on my grind like a nympho get though But I need more, my whole team need dough But peep yo, a lot of dudes that I hustled with before, they locked up now Trying to ball hard so we can score when they touch down We all trying to get to where freedom is at Yo we're stuck in the hood, that's why we beez in the trap [Hook] [Verse 3: Julius Luciano] Yo, feel like Alicia Keys, I grew up in hell's kitchen I wasn't dealt a good hand, but I dealt with it Trying to stay afloat, call me Michael Phelps listen Better yet, Michael P. cause the help's missin' Momma's belt whippings kept away the jail sentence You know the story on pigs, the tale's twisted When times get hard, time is a dick I think clocks should be spelled with the "L" missin' I take you n***as to the Beach where I'm from L.B. n***as bust chrome heats where I'm from But y'all ain't listening The ghetto a** n***a trying to clock that paper No high school diploma, never got that paper I'm trying to find escape, trying to find it fast But if you ain't Tameka Harris then escape is no tiny task [Verse 4: Kenny Siegel] This is the story of a little biddy, a little diddy My little Kenny's ghetto Was hard to hold me like a little titty Plus was feeling sh**ty riding that intercity Metro Would pretend my hand was a gun, pull my trigger, that's my thumb And bust two while thinking f** you And aim at every car I seen, shooting at everyone as the bus moves Thinking I bust too hard to ride on this sh** That's the sh** like Kids screaming which gun do you want me shoot you with I was talking hammers when that rapper dropped 2 Legit True as sh**, I panhandle for a dollar In a sense I'm still asking for change Cuz they don't hear it when a ghetto kid hollers Sieg is always thinking of ????????? [Hook] [Outro (x2)] All I ever had was a llama and a dream Llama and a dream, llama-llama and a dream