Yo yo yo turn me up turn me up Turn me up turn me up yeah yeah come on Yeah yeah yeah take everything yeah Yeah real shit real shit Shallah Raekwon All day let's go I was born and raised in the ghetto I was born and raised in the ghetto I was born and raised in the ghetto Listen to me and just lay up Park Hill Projects one eight pound Holding it down that's the motto 'lo goose and lottos Blunts on the regular O G style I'm into old V's swinging in cabs slinging them OZ's All I know is running in fiends labs hitting the green bags Visualizing Chef in the green Jag's Wait til I get on the haters gonna hate it In this corner a rich young don with a crisp lab Brother listen to me Brother listen to me Listen to me and just lay up How do you make your bread in the ghetto How do you make your bread in the ghetto We make bread in the ghetto by selling that crack See niggas that make bread by busting the gat Might stick a nigga up stab him dead in his back It's a dirty bread game but we get through them stacks Bread game rather have bread than fame Some sell pills and weed it ain't no joke Might sell anything as long as we not broke So if you getting that bread we be coming for your throat It's crazy what a brother might do for the bread Might violate parole til ya family is dead We get bread in the ghetto while we ducking the feds I heard bread in the ghetto got a loaf on his head come on Brother listen to me Brother listen to me Listen to me and just lay up How do you get rid of rats in the ghetto Yo yo aiyo we ox 'em duff 'em stuff 'em in black bags Torture them toss 'em out the window with rift rafts Cuz we don't take kindly to rats in the ghetto Either your mouth stay shut or get slapped with the metal Big fat rats get fried like porkchops for snitching Get your ass hung like a wall clock It's Tone Stark Billy the Kid when the gun bark A wire sticking out his shirt he talking to NARC How do you raise your kids in the ghetto How do you raise your kids in the ghetto Feed one child and starve another Tell me tell me and just lay up We like brothers we came from the same mothers In the projects under the same covers Wore the same drawers f**ked the same whores Rolled dice kicked rhymes did crimes in the same hall Sprayed our names on the same wall Yo your kids knew my kids your wiz knew my wiz Now you caught up in music and showbiz If that's what it is then that's what it is Run up in your crib with twelve black brothers That'll digest to live die just to live Some called us martyrs some called us fathers Run up in the club like the suicide bombers We be the brothers ready past lovers Never wanna see us blow we not others Somewhere in the competition friends got lost The money got flipped your tables got crossed Now you all caught up in that label talk Brain dead in the grain of thoughts With a name and a game that can change New York We ate from the same fork pop had the same thought The same thought