im back one mo gan, to drop some raps
shake shake shake, shootin craps

either dice, or hustlin, we make that bread
call me the baker man, cuz i stay fed

what u gon do boy? i serve up rock
and for them hatas, keep the burna cocked

i told yall doods, yall aint ready
when im holdin the strap, my aim is steady

fiends stealin shit, or diffrent color jackets
wasent u jus askin, bout my target practice?

welcome to the ghetto, where the cash cow is powder/
Ain't nothin sweet here everything's fuckin sour/
Where wars are raged over colors and beefin over creeds/
Drugs dealers the merchant and supplies all our needs/
They see us as a problem, just an added waste of space/
Put those mah fuckas in the ghetto for one day and they'll be picken slugs off their face/
How the fuck we supposed to get jobs if we broke and homeless?/
The boss ain't callin for an interview if he finds out ur phoneless/
So we resort to drugs, paid in full cash/
Had to purchase a piece just to protect my stash/
Fuckas love it when ur broke, they spit at where u walk/
But when their ignorance pays off in the end they won't have room to talk