|
Intro: Ras Kass
|
|
Once again, we take over cash
|
Ras Kass, Dr. Dre and Mack 10 connected.
|
We ghetto fabulous baby.
|
The best food, drink and pussy that money can buy.
|
|
Verse One: Ras Kass
|
|
Every day of my life is off the ringer
|
That's guaranteed, like a fistfight on Jerry Springer
|
I got the hottest flow to hit the street since lava
|
so holla, we all hustle for dollar dollars
|
From Sac to Houston, New Orleans to D.C.
|
We drinkin' V-S-O-P (?) the beats beep
|
Bangin, catch me with a dimepiece next to me
|
My Body all over Your Body like LSG
|
Neighborhood celeb with the keys to my city like the mayor
|
Rookies askin us how to be a playa
|
Get in where you fit in, and never get your ghetto pass revoked
|
No matter how much money you make
|
Stay true to the game loc, guest list terror clothes
|
in jeans and tennis shoes, breakin your strict dress codes
|
Spit lyrical bricks, thirteen deep
|
so I can be richer than Master P sellin 'Ghetto D'
|
|
Chorus: Mack 10
|
|
We Ghetto, fabulous
|
Money make the world go round so let's handle this
|
Ghetto, fabulous
|
Broadcastin live from Los Angeles
|
We ghetto, fabulous
|
Money make the world go round so let's handle this
|
Ghetto, fabulous
|
Broadcastin live from Los Angeles
|
|
Verse Two: Dr. Dre
|
|
You ain't heard of me, you ain't listenin hard enough
|
Started in Compton servin from a ice cream truck
|
Now ten years later whippin a custom Navigator
|
Steppin on your toes playa, stuffin up your alligators
|
I'm ghetto, like Newport cigarettes, feel me
|
Boom bap and slap that ass silly
|
This is for the full time students slash part time strippers
|
And young niggaz, clockin at least five figures
|
Some of us pro atheletes, some of us rap over fat beats
|
Some of us hustle in the streets
|
Twenty deep in Club Nikki's so you know we gots to mingle
|
Trickin' (?) off a pocket full of singles, huh
|
And it's all bueno, musical mafia like Frank Sinatra
|
Pop a thirteen shot glock to make you Go See the Doctor
|
Ain't nuttin nice
|
>From hood to hood, love livin the lavish life
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
Verse Three: Ras Kass
|
|
Nigga Stu-B-Doo in the GS, three ooh ooh
|
Playin number two Tekken, zero to sixty
|
in six point seven seconds *tires screech* hangin out the window
|
actin up, chickenheads like "You doin fo' months!"
|
Flexin the Rolex oyster perpetual, thirty-five diamonds
|
across the face, still eatin out foam cups and paper plates
|
We don't call it playa hatin in the nine-eight, it's P.I.
|
That's pass intereference, automatic first down
|
Want Juice like Tupac, then Obey Your Thirst clown
|
Be in the PJ's in NY, rockin DK
|
Mix EJ with OJ, OK, we say
|
"L.A. niggaz got crazy came
|
like John Elway got a superbowl ring"
|
The homies down for whatever, we stack the chedda
|
Swiss bank accounts, and mo' mozzarella fella
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
Outro:
|
|
Ugh! And it don't stop!
|
|
HAHA, WESTSIDE RIDERS BABY, HAHA!
|
|
*fade out*
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
Ghetto Fabulous
|
Dr. DRE |