| Song | Miss Ghetto |
| Artist | Poor Righteous Teachers |
| Album | New World Order |
| 作词 : Grimes, Johnson, Muchita ... | |
| Yo for truly, we representing for the love of this (this is a love story) | |
| Yeah, This one is dedicated to all my niggaz in central New Jerusalem | |
| All the brothers who picked up that ring after I put it down | |
| And took Miss Ghetto to be their unlawfully wedded wives | |
| Poor Righteous Teachers representing the nine | |
| It's like that and you don't stop | |
| She's like cocaine, running around my brain | |
| Miss Ghetto be like cocaine, running around your brain | |
| I know some crack slingers, crack slingers and cracker shankers | |
| They soldier-train us, teaching their kids to murder strangers | |
| They live for danger, they express the "I a Nigga" | |
| Miss Ghetto got 'em dreaming of loot and Swiss bankers | |
| The finest weapons, packing tri-action Smith and Wessons | |
| Unlike the 80's, ladies packing 680's(?) | |
| The shit is crazy, but it's like the ghetto babies | |
| They gotta eat, so the streets provide the gravy | |
| I thought that maybe I could show them that other way G | |
| Of Gods and Earths, resurrected through mental birth | |
| From death to life, teaching niggas of every type | |
| The wrongs and rights, to put an end to living trife | |
| The black man is God, the 12th jewel is thirteen | |
| The pursuit of it can make savages out of kings | |
| Cause blush, to live with these niggas is in a rush | |
| In God they trust, so they sell crack to us | |
| Lust for what whitey got and whitey has | |
| Can see your ass on pursuit to get cash | |
| To look thrash, to driving the latest jags | |
| See, I never meant to fall in love with this shit | |
| But Miss Ghetto you's a slut so I'm divorcing you bitch | |
| Bust it | |
| [Chorus:] | |
| I ain't marrying Miss Ghetto again | |
| First chance I get to bounce world life I'm bouncing [x2] | |
| She's like cocaine running around my brain | |
| (No matter how much loot I get I'm staying in the projects) [x2] | |
| Down in my gutter | |
| Just like others there's teenage mothers | |
| There's dying brothers, shooting out with one another | |
| They wanted badly, for sisters to call them Daddy | |
| To drive a Caddy, stories unheard by Dear Abby | |
| They're dressing flashy | |
| Can't be caught in fatigue khakis | |
| They're rocking cool G(?), versace and cold boots G | |
| These brothers do it for the love of the life | |
| But I refuse to fall twice and take Miss Ghetto to wife | |
| I used to sex her, bust my nut, get my cash real fast | |
| But that was all that she produced, I felt my life wouldn't last | |
| We used to go to New York, traffic guns of all sort | |
| When killing became sport street life became short | |
| I thought, "Are we junkies like these baseheads, Yo | |
| They addicted to the crack while we addicted to dough" | |
| For truly, I never meant to fall in love with this shit | |
| But Miss Ghetto you's a slut so I'm divorcing you bitch | |
| Bust it | |
| [Chorus] | |
| See, there go some niggas that I used to roll with | |
| Still on that crack and gun shit | |
| Endless pursuit to rush shit, bust it | |
| Miss Ghetto got 'em strung out on the putang cream | |
| That does up Wu-Tang fiends | |
| For slingin cocaine, dig it | |
| We used to do the bumper crack for the sex | |
| While making love to the checks, Miss Ghetto's steelo complex | |
| Living trifling, no matter where my life went | |
| Miss Ghetto, my new wife, went she made it more exciting | |
| Fighting, shooting out, doing all types dirt | |
| Being these, seeing G's putting in much work | |
| Word, we used to keep a sisters underwear laced | |
| With ganja and freebase and bo juice to parlay | |
| Flip! Me and my niggas ran the strip pushing dips | |
| Black cats and plastics, fucking the minds of black kids | |
| Till one day, I was confronted by this wise old chap | |
| He said, "I know you sell crack, but what, you out to kill blacks?" | |
| I wasn't trying to hear it, my excuse sorta weak | |
| I said that we gotta eat, that's why we running these streets | |
| Then he said, "Don't you know that whitey give you that coke, | |
| That bullshit pursuit of plush that got you killing your folk?" | |
| Life, I didn't understand that shit back then | |
| But now I do so I refuse to roll with whitey again | |
| Bust it | |
| I ain't marrying Miss Ghetto again | |
| First chance I get to bounce word life I'm bouncing, niggas. | |
| I ain't marrying Miss Ghetto again | |
| First chance I get to bounce word life I'm bouncing, niggas. | |
| [Chorus x2] | |
| See Gods, you like cocaine, fucking with my brain | |
| You like cocaine, running around my brain | |
| For the love of this... |
| zuò cí : Grimes, Johnson, Muchita ... | |
| Yo for truly, we representing for the love of this this is a love story | |
| Yeah, This one is dedicated to all my niggaz in central New Jerusalem | |
| All the brothers who picked up that ring after I put it down | |
| And took Miss Ghetto to be their unlawfully wedded wives | |
| Poor Righteous Teachers representing the nine | |
| It' s like that and you don' t stop | |
| She' s like cocaine, running around my brain | |
| Miss Ghetto be like cocaine, running around your brain | |
| I know some crack slingers, crack slingers and cracker shankers | |
| They soldiertrain us, teaching their kids to murder strangers | |
| They live for danger, they express the " I a Nigga" | |
| Miss Ghetto got ' em dreaming of loot and Swiss bankers | |
| The finest weapons, packing triaction Smith and Wessons | |
| Unlike the 80' s, ladies packing 680' s? | |
| The shit is crazy, but it' s like the ghetto babies | |
| They gotta eat, so the streets provide the gravy | |
| I thought that maybe I could show them that other way G | |
| Of Gods and Earths, resurrected through mental birth | |
| From death to life, teaching niggas of every type | |
| The wrongs and rights, to put an end to living trife | |
| The black man is God, the 12th jewel is thirteen | |
| The pursuit of it can make savages out of kings | |
| Cause blush, to live with these niggas is in a rush | |
| In God they trust, so they sell crack to us | |
| Lust for what whitey got and whitey has | |
| Can see your ass on pursuit to get cash | |
| To look thrash, to driving the latest jags | |
| See, I never meant to fall in love with this shit | |
| But Miss Ghetto you' s a slut so I' m divorcing you bitch | |
| Bust it | |
| Chorus: | |
| I ain' t marrying Miss Ghetto again | |
| First chance I get to bounce world life I' m bouncing x2 | |
| She' s like cocaine running around my brain | |
| No matter how much loot I get I' m staying in the projects x2 | |
| Down in my gutter | |
| Just like others there' s teenage mothers | |
| There' s dying brothers, shooting out with one another | |
| They wanted badly, for sisters to call them Daddy | |
| To drive a Caddy, stories unheard by Dear Abby | |
| They' re dressing flashy | |
| Can' t be caught in fatigue khakis | |
| They' re rocking cool G?, versace and cold boots G | |
| These brothers do it for the love of the life | |
| But I refuse to fall twice and take Miss Ghetto to wife | |
| I used to sex her, bust my nut, get my cash real fast | |
| But that was all that she produced, I felt my life wouldn' t last | |
| We used to go to New York, traffic guns of all sort | |
| When killing became sport street life became short | |
| I thought, " Are we junkies like these baseheads, Yo | |
| They addicted to the crack while we addicted to dough" | |
| For truly, I never meant to fall in love with this shit | |
| But Miss Ghetto you' s a slut so I' m divorcing you bitch | |
| Bust it | |
| Chorus | |
| See, there go some niggas that I used to roll with | |
| Still on that crack and gun shit | |
| Endless pursuit to rush shit, bust it | |
| Miss Ghetto got ' em strung out on the putang cream | |
| That does up WuTang fiends | |
| For slingin cocaine, dig it | |
| We used to do the bumper crack for the sex | |
| While making love to the checks, Miss Ghetto' s steelo complex | |
| Living trifling, no matter where my life went | |
| Miss Ghetto, my new wife, went she made it more exciting | |
| Fighting, shooting out, doing all types dirt | |
| Being these, seeing G' s putting in much work | |
| Word, we used to keep a sisters underwear laced | |
| With ganja and freebase and bo juice to parlay | |
| Flip! Me and my niggas ran the strip pushing dips | |
| Black cats and plastics, fucking the minds of black kids | |
| Till one day, I was confronted by this wise old chap | |
| He said, " I know you sell crack, but what, you out to kill blacks?" | |
| I wasn' t trying to hear it, my excuse sorta weak | |
| I said that we gotta eat, that' s why we running these streets | |
| Then he said, " Don' t you know that whitey give you that coke, | |
| That bullshit pursuit of plush that got you killing your folk?" | |
| Life, I didn' t understand that shit back then | |
| But now I do so I refuse to roll with whitey again | |
| Bust it | |
| I ain' t marrying Miss Ghetto again | |
| First chance I get to bounce word life I' m bouncing, niggas. | |
| I ain' t marrying Miss Ghetto again | |
| First chance I get to bounce word life I' m bouncing, niggas. | |
| Chorus x2 | |
| See Gods, you like cocaine, fucking with my brain | |
| You like cocaine, running around my brain | |
| For the love of this... |