Master P - The Ghetto Won't Change lyrics

-some say you can change the ghetto -but you can't -i mean you can't change the people in there If they don't want to change Imagine this, imagine that Everything you want in life, you will never get From the ghetto cause its crazy Most n***as want rose ?? but they get daisies Imagine this, little kids with no shoes on And every homeless person i see I'm willing to take them home But i can't cause my life is pure misery Every dollar i make, ten go back to hillary And bill, i guess life is real But i know deep inside i was dealt a bad deal And life ain't fair I don't care Even though i know one day I'll probably be leaving out of here But life has no meaning We was born dreaming But i was born scheming Imagine this, david duke as our president Imagine ?nuey gambles? as his best friend And robert dole would be his best man But ya'll steady lookin at us for c**aine I don't own a plane, i don't own a boat I don't ship no f**in dope, from coast to coast Most n***as either locked up or in chains Black on black crime fool You know the ghetto will never change Chorus: But i'll keep holding on (but the ghetto won't change) I'll keep holding on (these little kids ain't got a chance) I'll keep holding on (this world ain't the same) I'll keep holding on (that's why the ghetto won't change) Imagine life without no rain Imagine everybody that you know has the same name And we all would be in sin Imagine bout you, k**ing your best friend That's how it is in the ghetto g Nobody care about you, her, him or me But they quick to point the finger But what if the shoe or the ring was on the other finger And the ghetto was good And the neighborhoods like the suburbs wasn't all good That's where the dope would be at And the people in the ghetto would live fat But it ain't all good like that Cause the ghetto is crazy I mean the people live like rats Taking from they brothers, they sisters, they cousins And n***as would k** they own mother Behind some rock c**aine But this is some sh** that i don't understand Them bullets ain't got no names, so you better duck For you be (blew) ridin in that black truck And when you take that long ride Leaving the ghetto trying to get that piece of pie Trying to hustle, trying to make a come up But in the end you will get done up Chorus: