ap. 9 - the ghetto turned me lyrics
[intro: ap. 9]
yeah, better feel me man
ghetto turned me
it’s how we livin’ military mind state
military mind state n+gga (sup man)
[?]
ap. 9 boy
was born this way, was born this way don’t [?]
the feds really care..
yo
[verse 1: ap. 9]
they say i’m associated with [?] shooters and lex lugers
benzes and cadillac coupe’s we livin’ proof
i ain’t never been a party wrecker (nah)
the partys f+cked when i stepped in with the thugs
off the drugs we all nuts, don’t n0body f+ck with us (nah)
you best trust, i l+st for death and i demand my respect
i suggest the cops give it up, or catch a hot one
i’m plottin’ on my safety and i can’t let the feds tempt me
think they get me to the precinct, i figure they gon’ hurt me
that’s why my attorney took a long journey they ghetto turned me
to a militant, a military mind state
inner city city boy, the cemetery can’t wait to have another body trapped up, off in his birdy mugs
i’ll die with a dirty gun, and i’ll ride ’till the war is won
the lord’ll come, the good die young (yeah)
the bad live fast, the strong got a grasp and the weak won’t last
[chorus: ap. 9]
the ghetto turned me (turned me) to a militant (to a militant)
a military mind state remaining innocent (innocent)
n+ggas get shot in the face for nothin’, don’t push my b+tton (b+tton)
i’m on another page, livin’ up in these last days
the ghetto turned me to a militant
a military mind state remaining innocent
n+ggas get shot in the face for nothin’, don’t push my b+tton
i’m on another page, livin’ up in these last days
[verse 2: ap. 9]
imagines this, imagine gettin’ shot in yo’ head, imagine life
imagine gettin’ got for yo’ bread, imagine life without your knife n+ggas get sliced in the face on ghetto christ, givin’ life
to these young bucks from the projects to the bed bugs
my led buck, hollow hot shots, i got my top
and if a n+gga try to plot then we chop chop up off the block
’cause it’s street wars (street war) something like c+4 (c+4)
blow the door up off yo range rove, i do my dirt in plain clothes
my pain goes from here to my heart, my n+ggas ain’t marks (nah)
we part b+dubs and stay to f+ck up all the clubs
it’s a thug thang (thug thang) slug game (slug game)
we serve ‘caine through the planes and through the trains we do the d+mn thing
it’s the bay mayn. the murderin’ methods you gotta accept it
my murderin’ weapon is what i’m wreckin’ n+gga neglect it
and you f+cked (f+cked) out of luck with three strikes
it seems like my life ain’t nothin’ what it seems like
[chorus: ap. 9]
the ghetto turned me into a militant
a military mind state remaining innocent
n+ggas get shot in the face for nothin’, don’t push my b+tton
i’m on another page, livin’ up in these last days
the ghetto turned me to a militant
a military mind state remaining innocent
n+ggas get shot in the face for nothin’, don’t push my b+tton
i’m on another page, livin’ up in these last days
[verse 3: yukmouth]
b+tch! i’m the first n+gga on the block from the first to the third
with chopped up rocks to serve, b+tch i just purchased the birds
yes sir! on the f+ckin’ block where the worst can occur
the cops swerve on the curb and all the workers get searched
and f+ck the cops i kick rocks, i ain’t about to get searched
i’m dirty, what’s under my shirt’ll make ya drop in the dirt
yes sir! mr. officer i’m hittin’ them gates
right after i spit in his face, for sittin’ there get in my case
so i pray like shyne when he shot that b+tch in the face
tryna hit the escape, yukmouth that n+gga you hate
yuk worse than the kkk but still i’m gettin’ them cakes
every day i f+ck with models your main b+tch is a h
every day i f+ck with gangsters you n+ggas is fake
every day at least twenty kilo’s ship to ya state
every day the y+u+k+m+o+u crucifix h
stack cash, sling big weight, the ghetto made me this way
i’m turned out n+gga
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