Lyrical Breakdown of Lil' Ghetto Boy - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

So, all of you Africans

All of you Africans that wanna do things that's working for other people

Y'all need to open your own business, save your money

Quit paying motherfuckers for jelly curls

Quit paying motherfuckers for perms

Save your money, start your own business

And you true Africans, will have put hundreds to work

This is our future right here, this our future right here

This some shit! The new generation is on! The new generation

Hey, I'mma tell you right now

If-if if I have to die today

For this little African right here to have a future

I'm a dead motherfucker! (You right!)

Wake up, jumped out my bed

I'm in a 2 man cell with my homie Lil Half Dead

Murder was the case that they gave me

Dear God, I wonder can you save me

I'm only 18, so I'm a young buck

It's a riot, if I don't scrap, I'm getting stuck

But that's the life of a G, I guess

Ese's way deep, shanked two in the chest

Bests run cause brothers is dropping quicker

Uh, too late, damn, down goes another nigga

Bouncing off the walls, throwing them dogs

Getting that rep as a young hog

It ain't nothing like the street life

You better be strapped with your shank, cause ain't no fist fight

So I guess I gots to handle mine

Since I did the crime, I gots to do my time

Them say me grow up to be nothing, look at me now

And tell me what you see

I am what I am, it's only me

Little ghetto boy

Playing in the ghetto street

What'cha gonna do when you grow up

And have to face responsibility?

Now, I'm holding a dub, sitting on swoll

27 years old, up for parole, stroll

I'm back up on my feet with my mind on the money

That I'll be making soon as I touch the streets

Things done changed on this side

Remember they used to thump but now they blast, right

But it ain't no thing to me

Cause now I'm what they call a loced-assed OG

The little homies from the hood with grip

Are the ones I get with cause I'm down to set trip

Nigga, I'm bigger than you, so what'cha wanna do

Didn't know he had a .22

Straight sitting behind his back

I grabbed his pockets and then I heard six caps

I fell to the ground with blood on my hands

I didn't understand

How a nigga so young could bust a cap

I used to be the same way back

I guess that's what I get (For what?)

For trying to jack them little homies for they grip

Me learn many things from what me from the street

The outcome of what I've come to be

Little ghetto boy

Playing in the ghetto street

What'cha gonna do when you grow up

And have to face responsibility?

Something for the real OGs to get with

Some facts, made our made, now you wanna run and play

Like every single day, really doe

You know me, I'm the smooth macadamien, gaming them for my homie

No needing being calm if you pack right

And learning just enuff to keep your sack right

Late nights, I wonder what they getting for?

Early morning on the corners, what they hitting for?

Seven young Gs but they serve down

In a G ride, east side's where they swerve now

Not thinking about what's really going on

Got crept on, stepped on, now they gone

I spent 4 years in the county with nothing but convicts around me

But now I'm back at the pound

And we expose ways for the youth to survive

Some think it's wrong but we tend to think it's (right)

So make all them ends you can make

Cause when you're broke, you break, check it out

So ain't no need for your mama to trip

Cause you's a hustling-ass youngsta, clocking your grip

Now me finally grown as you can see, still anOG

For life and always remain to be

I'm a little ghetto boy

Playing in the ghetto street

What'cha gonna do when you grow up

And have to face responsibility?