Ch
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Down in my area, chk a chk uh.. real shit nigga uh
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It's the ROC
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Yeah... Free... yea uh feel me.. Pa pause
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Yo.. yo
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[Verse 1: Freeway]
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I was born in west but migrated to north
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Remember cold nights grindin' AK and a toss
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Four door for the stick up boys if they want war
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Fiends comin' all night all I heard was four more
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Rocks in the cap
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When it was jumpin' me and Rell hit dances
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You could pick me out the crowd rockin' the cap
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But things change
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Cause my man Rell fightin' a body
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On state row where it's so cold
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Rockin' his blues
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I roll with the ROC
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Still trynna rock at a show
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Shit aint like 98' niggaz pockets is low
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Which way do I go?
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Indictments blew over
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Man whipped a few shoulders
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Shovel nick boulders gettin' it slow
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Me, I'm in the studio switchin' the flow
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Changin' the styles
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My son and daughter need pampers
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Cause they just shittin' them up
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And changin' the size
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My man Just quipped the Jags
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See the change in his eyes
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[Chorus: Freeway - 2X]; followed by [Rell]
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And I eat, sleep, buy, sell - drugs
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Cause I'm just another victim of the ghetto
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When I rob, steal, lie to get money, bust slugs (shots)
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Cause I'm just another product of the ghetto
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[Rell] This is how it goes down in these ghetto streets
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[Rell] This is how it goes down in my neighborhood
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[Rell] This is how it goes down in these ghetto streets
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[Rell] This is how it goes down in my area
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[Verse 2: Freeway]
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My man blingin' platinum wheel, platinum gat
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Took a trip down south came back with platinum caps
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I'm still trynna write platinum raps
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But made a slight change from verse one
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Started jugglin' packs
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It's like I'm travelin' backwards
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Rewindin' the time
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Putting four on nine
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Must be outta my mind
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(uh) nine, get it outta my palm
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Just grab four and a half get it outta my trunk
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Free we need you at the studio
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Out to lunch - out on the block
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These niggaz just pulled out on my man
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And the only rock I worry bout is right on my face
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We bout to go shake, rattle his block (shots) with no plans
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Shots fired, cops came
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But I'm a grown man
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I stick around till my clip is empty
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Cops threw me on the ground
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When my clip got empty (shots)
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Now bars is all I see a thug is all I'll ever be
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[Chorus]
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[Verse 3: Freeway]
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I got, 11 in I was facin' a dub, got nine left
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My click show love they write back
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My cousin M's son, little Di he's so grown
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Said he hold chrome, run blocks, and write raps
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Wrote him right back
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Told him I control the bones
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Try to play the phone
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We could rhyme and hold wax
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Leave that drug shit alone
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Don't forget you grown
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It'll put you places where your mind can't get you back from
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Little nigga aint write me back since
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Still supply the jail
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L.Pridgon you got mail
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It's probably all the letters you wrote him
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What you mean?
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All the fucked up shit you told him
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This shit from my cousin Emily I'm quotin' (uh huh)
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Right out her letter
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Little Di, got popped in the head trynna steal a nigga leather
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That's what the cops said but the streets could tell you better
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[Chorus]
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-----------------
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Victim of the Ghetto
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| Freeway |
