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(with John Legend, feat. Malik Yusef) [Malik Yusef] |
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You know you ghetto boy, when you got a face, with a scar |
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And yo' highest aspirations is a place, and a car |
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Shorties pull out and bussssst, like a money shot |
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Now he on the run, he hot |
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And he hurtin his |
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Granny and she the only one he got |
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The hood so shady |
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You give up hope, of ever even tryin to find a sunny, spot- -light, they caught him at the stop- -light, but if he woulda run that yellow |
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Then he coulda, run the globe |
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But insteed, with speed |
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They put one in the middle of his frontal, lobe like a unicorn |
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I'm just tryin to keep you, informed |
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To my little ghetto soldiers in they, gold green, red, and blue uni-forms - chuuch! |
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But I'm feeling like the loneliest monk |
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So I pull me a |
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Thelonius |
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Monk and blew, the horn |
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And we don the monikers of goons and gangsters |
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And are trained to conduct ourselves true, to form |
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So we add a |
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Shorty, a |
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Money, a Mack |
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A Lil', a |
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Eazy, or a |
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Young to our name |
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So all the big ballers grab rims and hung, in the game |
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And there's a degree, of difficul-ty to make it from the ghetto boy into the man-hood |
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Especially when you know that yo' fresh greens will help eliminated a canned, good |
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Can, good, and bad co-exisssst? |
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In a place with plenty of off ramps but no ex-its |