| 作曲 : Bryant, Flores | |
| Ghetto Soldier, I'm representin' from that Houston | |
| Second War, that be the place where I do my dirt | |
| Kickin' doors, sellin' dope, only my God knows | |
| I have to do what I have to do, just to stay alive | |
| I lost a friend, but God blessed me with some real niggaz | |
| LSR, I kept it real from the ****in' start | |
| I stay strapped, cause my neighborhood is so dirty | |
| I kiss my Grandma goodbye, but my jefa looks so worried | |
| Pitbulls from my tierra that I call my home | |
| It aint much, but its something I can call my own | |
| I go to war at any times, at any place | |
| Why yo punk twelve gauge, all in your face | |
| I want your j' s, your jacket, and your jewelry | |
| What the **** you on my block, if you aint cool with me | |
| You crossed the line, ain't no time to press rewind | |
| I caught you slippin' cause I heard that you dropped a dime | |
| On my perro, now he doin' twenty-five to life | |
| Low G, now I got to earn another strike | |
| Ghetto star, Greyhound is my ****in' car | |
| Ghetto close, but I'm feeling like I'm ghetto far | |
| [Chorus: repeat 8X] | |
| Don't disrespect my mind - don't disrespect my clika | |
| [Baby Bash] | |
| A maggets gon' be a magget, fagget's gon' be a fagget | |
| But if they want some static, I got an automatic | |
| This automatic, if I grab it | |
| Sometimes it's tragic, causin havoc | |
| Bullets blastin, but he had to have it from startin racket | |
| Looked at the wound and autographed it | |
| The game is graphic, and the classic, in and out of traffic | |
| Money stackin, by any means keep your gadget | |
| And find a way to keep supporting my weed habit | |
| I get my shit dirt cheifed, the way I like it | |
| You disrespect the clik, puto I get excited | |
| My trigga finger get itchy, like I was Lionel Richie | |
| A Commodore, when I go to war | |
| so get down so I can touch you quickly | |
| No substitute for these thugs, who love to shoot and cut the loot | |
| You **** with punks, that's why I don't **** with you | |
| Cock strong, pretty boy but don't get it twisted | |
| A savage with this beat you want it mayne then come and get it | |
| Cause every blow has nothing but these bad intentions | |
| So now you know Baby Bash keeps it gut wrenchin' | |
| [Chorus] |
| zuo qu : Bryant, Flores | |
| Ghetto Soldier, I' m representin' from that Houston | |
| Second War, that be the place where I do my dirt | |
| Kickin' doors, sellin' dope, only my God knows | |
| I have to do what I have to do, just to stay alive | |
| I lost a friend, but God blessed me with some real niggaz | |
| LSR, I kept it real from the in' start | |
| I stay strapped, cause my neighborhood is so dirty | |
| I kiss my Grandma goodbye, but my jefa looks so worried | |
| Pitbulls from my tierra that I call my home | |
| It aint much, but its something I can call my own | |
| I go to war at any times, at any place | |
| Why yo punk twelve gauge, all in your face | |
| I want your j' s, your jacket, and your jewelry | |
| What the you on my block, if you aint cool with me | |
| You crossed the line, ain' t no time to press rewind | |
| I caught you slippin' cause I heard that you dropped a dime | |
| On my perro, now he doin' twentyfive to life | |
| Low G, now I got to earn another strike | |
| Ghetto star, Greyhound is my in' car | |
| Ghetto close, but I' m feeling like I' m ghetto far | |
| Chorus: repeat 8X | |
| Don' t disrespect my mind don' t disrespect my clika | |
| Baby Bash | |
| A maggets gon' be a magget, fagget' s gon' be a fagget | |
| But if they want some static, I got an automatic | |
| This automatic, if I grab it | |
| Sometimes it' s tragic, causin havoc | |
| Bullets blastin, but he had to have it from startin racket | |
| Looked at the wound and autographed it | |
| The game is graphic, and the classic, in and out of traffic | |
| Money stackin, by any means keep your gadget | |
| And find a way to keep supporting my weed habit | |
| I get my shit dirt cheifed, the way I like it | |
| You disrespect the clik, puto I get excited | |
| My trigga finger get itchy, like I was Lionel Richie | |
| A Commodore, when I go to war | |
| so get down so I can touch you quickly | |
| No substitute for these thugs, who love to shoot and cut the loot | |
| You with punks, that' s why I don' t with you | |
| Cock strong, pretty boy but don' t get it twisted | |
| A savage with this beat you want it mayne then come and get it | |
| Cause every blow has nothing but these bad intentions | |
| So now you know Baby Bash keeps it gut wrenchin' | |
| Chorus |
| zuò qǔ : Bryant, Flores | |
| Ghetto Soldier, I' m representin' from that Houston | |
| Second War, that be the place where I do my dirt | |
| Kickin' doors, sellin' dope, only my God knows | |
| I have to do what I have to do, just to stay alive | |
| I lost a friend, but God blessed me with some real niggaz | |
| LSR, I kept it real from the in' start | |
| I stay strapped, cause my neighborhood is so dirty | |
| I kiss my Grandma goodbye, but my jefa looks so worried | |
| Pitbulls from my tierra that I call my home | |
| It aint much, but its something I can call my own | |
| I go to war at any times, at any place | |
| Why yo punk twelve gauge, all in your face | |
| I want your j' s, your jacket, and your jewelry | |
| What the you on my block, if you aint cool with me | |
| You crossed the line, ain' t no time to press rewind | |
| I caught you slippin' cause I heard that you dropped a dime | |
| On my perro, now he doin' twentyfive to life | |
| Low G, now I got to earn another strike | |
| Ghetto star, Greyhound is my in' car | |
| Ghetto close, but I' m feeling like I' m ghetto far | |
| Chorus: repeat 8X | |
| Don' t disrespect my mind don' t disrespect my clika | |
| Baby Bash | |
| A maggets gon' be a magget, fagget' s gon' be a fagget | |
| But if they want some static, I got an automatic | |
| This automatic, if I grab it | |
| Sometimes it' s tragic, causin havoc | |
| Bullets blastin, but he had to have it from startin racket | |
| Looked at the wound and autographed it | |
| The game is graphic, and the classic, in and out of traffic | |
| Money stackin, by any means keep your gadget | |
| And find a way to keep supporting my weed habit | |
| I get my shit dirt cheifed, the way I like it | |
| You disrespect the clik, puto I get excited | |
| My trigga finger get itchy, like I was Lionel Richie | |
| A Commodore, when I go to war | |
| so get down so I can touch you quickly | |
| No substitute for these thugs, who love to shoot and cut the loot | |
| You with punks, that' s why I don' t with you | |
| Cock strong, pretty boy but don' t get it twisted | |
| A savage with this beat you want it mayne then come and get it | |
| Cause every blow has nothing but these bad intentions | |
| So now you know Baby Bash keeps it gut wrenchin' | |
| Chorus |
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