Victim of the Ghetto

Ch Down in my area, chk a chk uh.. real shit nigga uh It's the ROC Yeah... Free... yea uh feel me.. Pa pause Yo.. yo [Verse 1: Freeway] I was born in west but migrated to north Remember cold nights grindin' AK in a Taurus Four door for the stick up boys if they want war Fiends comin' all night all I heard was four more Rocks in the cap When it was jumpin' me and Rell hit dances You could pick me out the crowd rockin' the cap But things change Cause my man Rell fightin' a body On State Road where it's so cold Rockin' his blues I roll with the ROC Still trynna rock at a show Shit ain't like 98' niggas pockets is low Which way do I go? Indictments blew over Man whipped a few shoulders Shovel nick boulders gettin' it slow Me, I'm in the studio switchin' the flow Changin' the styles My son and daughter need pampers Cause they just shittin' them up And changin' the size My man Just quipped the Jags See the change in his eyes [Hook: Freeway - 2X]; followed by [Rell] And I eat, sleep, buy, sell - drugs Cause I'm just another victim of the ghetto When I rob, steal, lie to get money, bust slugs (shots) Cause I'm just another product of the ghetto [Rell] This is how it goes down in these ghetto streets [Rell] This is how it goes down in my neighborhood [Rell] This is how it goes down in these ghetto streets [Rell] This is how it goes down in my area [Verse 2: Freeway] My man blingin' platinum wheel, platinum gat Took a trip down south came back with platinum caps I'm still trynna write platinum raps But made a slight change from verse one Started jugglin' packs It's like I'm travelin' backwards Rewindin' the time Putting four on nine Must be outta my mind (uh) nine, get it outta my palm Just grab four and a half get it outta my trunk Free we need you at the studio Out to lunch - out on the block These niggas just pulled out on my man And the only rock I worry bout is right on my face We bout to go shake, rattle his block (shots) with no plans Shots fired, cops came But I'm a grown man I stick around till my clip is empty Cops threw me on the ground When my clip got empty (shots) Now bars is all I see a thug is all I'll ever be [Hook] [Verse 3: Freeway] I got, 11 in I was facin' a dub, got nine left My click show love they write back My cousin M's son, little Di he's so grown Said he hold chrome, run blocks, and write raps Wrote him right back Told him I control the bones Try to play the phone We could rhyme and hold wax Leave that drug shit alone Don't forget you grown It'll put you places where your mind can't get you back from Little nigga ain't write me back since Still supply the jail L.Pridgon you got mail It's probably all the letters you wrote him What you mean? All the fucked up shit you told him This shit from my cousin Emily I'm quotin' (uh huh) Right out her letter Little Di, got popped in the head trynna steal a nigga leather That's what the cops said but the streets could tell you better [Hook]