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letra de ghetto poetry - $tupid young

[intro]
(can we have a check, please?)

[verse 1: $tupid young]
they ask me why i buy all the straps for
i’m paranoid, feel like everyone gon’ backdoor
but mia, i’m just busy tryna stack dough
shoot some dice, hit a l!ck or just rap more
either way, i’m gettin’ to it, and that’s the point
way before i made music, i been a joint
ain’t n0body showed me love when i was in the joint
i came home and made a team and now they wanna join
lost too many of my bros, so i don’t feel nothin’
i told my brothers if i go, you better k!ll somethin’
i make music for the bad b-tches and real ones
real n-gga beforе the fame and i’m still one
n0body gon’ givе you sh-t, you better suck it up
get off your ass, touch a bag and go run it up
he tried runnin’ up on us, then he dumb as f-ck
this fn gon’ make him jump like he double dutch
i’ve been crossed by some homies of my own blood
they try to take advantage of you when you show love
closest ones did me wrong and left me tore up
now when i see him, i just act like i don’t know cuz
gotta know the rules to the game and pay attention
who gon’ really be there for you when you gettin’ sentenced?
who gon’ really slide for you if they catch you slippin’?
everytime it was smoke, i had perfect attendance
no back and forth on the ‘net, i don’t do the mentions
they can say what they want, it’s on you to listen
i know trey gon’ go if i feel the tension
we ain’t nothin’ but outstanding members from the section
i’m just speakin’ from the heart, it’s ghetto poetry
ski mask when i dug it, they don’t know it’s me
hustle so hard, you would think there’s four of me
i’m too official, on the gang, there ain’t no ho in me
been the same hood trophy, just an older me
seen pop off on the ground and made a colder me
tried to help you out, but you tried to get over me
i cut ’em off and made it hard to get a hold of me
even if i never get a grammy off this sh-t
safe to say that i fed my family off this sh-t
even if they never give me flowers or my credit
i broke the door down for the agents, but they won’t admit it
[chorus: $tupid young]
i ain’t just talkin’ in my songs, i really live it
everything i put into this mic, i really did it
i ain’t just talkin’ in my songs, i really live it
everything i put into this mic, i really did it

[verse 2: peezy]
yeah, ghetto
i’m in cali lookin’ for the plug, now who in the middle?
they call it runtz when it’s 41 crossed with the skittles
they caught brodie lackin’ last week, now he in the spittal
he say he got a hundred floatin’ ’round, he want the head n-gga
the plug wanna know his money safe when you in bed with him
they know just where your kids go to school and where your parents livin’
but if you stay a hundred, then you straight
you ain’t got sh-t to worry ’bout at all, let’s get this cake
stay on time, never late
i don’t need my id, my face good, yeah, i’m great
i just took it out the press, i’m finna turn this sh-t gray
you n-ggas so f-ckin’ broke, y’all be walkin’ on crates
you n-ggas so f-ckin’ broke, y’all be doin’ the crate challenge
hit your people up, n-gga, see what you can make happen
let ’em know they came in, them b-tches whiter than a napkin
chrome heart patches on me, they mistake me for a pastor
i’ll bless a bad b-tch like she sneezed without askin’
take a b-tch to ocean prime, i can’t eat no white castle
speedin’ in that white thing, they can’t see me like casper
he got on amiri jeans, i don’t call that sh-t fashion
you n-ggas beefin’ on the ‘gram, goin’ out ass backwards
[outro: peezy]
shoutout my n-gga $tupid young, man, ‘preciate you, my n-gga
yeah, look, ghetto

- tupid young

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