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South Circle – Ghetto Madness lyrics

Shh, shh, shh shh
Gra-grammar like a sledgehammer
Shh, shh, shh, shh
Gra-grammar like a sledgehammer
Shh, shh, shh, shh
Stackin' pennies like Hardaway
It's hard to play with the M. Child
Ha ha

[Verse:]
It be some evil that these men do
I spit game so cold, playas froze coming to my kin do
Gangsta hats and trench coats, I pimp notes with quotes
Like playa haters takin' guns to they throats
Oh no, I'm walking down the strip, poppin' clips
I see O. J., sliced her from her c*** to her vertebrae
Murder mayday, it's a third degree slaughter
I aint trying to be broke, I need diapers for my daughter
Further up the strip it's some sisters prostituting, dealers looting
Grabbed my bulletproof too and started shooting
No half steps, I blast techs, homie you can ask Rex
Get twisted with mister, I'll leave dripping like a tampex
Tampon, strap on, the whole, entire
Shooting cocaine through my veins and now it feels like I'm on fire
But still I wanna get higher
Double crosses get double crossed, lost, get caught up in the crossfire
Still down to serve a fiend, partner you done heard of me
C*** this 4-4 and make the snitch come out of Hercules
Hurting these bustas with my murder threats
The murder reps, swirving a 9 fif candied out converted Lex
And you don't wanna flex with me, you better off on lsd
Well let's see, who's joking around like Bill Bellamy

[Verse 2:]
Speak of the uniqueness, freakiness like Jodeci
Mister murder poetry, mack is on the low key
Slow moving, grooving like a sidewinder
Ripping fools for thinking y'all's a liva rhymer (Tricks)
I signed a contract in blood, took a playas oath
Now I'm smoking blunts, making toasts coast to coast
I know for ways of acting stank and stuck up
I'm back like Tyson so you better get your guns up.
I'm in the 7-5-0 riding t-genuine
Me and Mike drunk off tequila and gin
Spin the bottle, hit the throttle, y'all can't stop us
Fools will drop like shocks when the shots bust
Must make stacks, made a batch of bomb hits

With my click, no the whole nation's on it

[Verse 3:]
B-b-b-bomb the glock, it's hot rocks on your block
From Pittsburgh to Texas they compose it like Frank Sinat-tra
I see you brah it's murder on your mind
I downs the Crown and now it's murder with my nine
I am superior, inferior higher than Cooley
Done choked and smoked get done up like some doobies
Who me, the playa from the sc
Busta, no doubt we pout, I wear you out like some Guess jeans
Redeem yourself from all of this madness
Back up in your uh is that playa wearing glasses

[Verse 4]
Calling the troops like Saudi, it's an all out attack
I'm strapped with black gats, and rough raps, to break your back, jack
Cataracts is what they call me cause I can't be seen
Mean is dope ya know, as I fiend for the green (For the green)
Guillotine, sharp on point like a bullseye
Cause nothing is short of super in my mental hoo-ride
Who's died, yeah y'all know that I went for none
Them said bring the drama so I had to bring them some
From the crib Suave House, same address
Contest or confess when it hits you in the chest
Rest assured that it's pure when I kick it
Best mature and handle your business
Tricks, so now I got bustas in handcuffs
On a manhunt, I'm staying tough, rolling up the next blunt
Y'all cannot see me on your tip-toes
I got killers that will kill from Mr. Mike where the wind blows
Benzos get burnt Lexs and Verts get took
Now who's the crook, I'm superfly like Jimmy Snook
My crew will jump on you like crickets
Handle they business, and now I must come wicked
Tape you, the young Steven Speilberg
They wanna mob with me, cause I be smoking real herb
That doja pushing more crystals than Folger's
Hold ya breath it's going down trick I told ya

Shh, shh, shh shh
Gra-grammar like a sledgehammer
Shh, shh, shh, shh
Gra-grammar like a sledgehammer
Shh, shh, shh, shh
Stackin' pennies like Hardaway
It's hard to play with the M. Child
Ha ha



Lyrics taken from http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/s/south_circle/ghetto_madness.html

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