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Back in the days when |
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I was tryin to come up in the rap game |
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Livin like a [???], bustlin spare change |
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Drivin a bucket, livin in a shack |
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Tryin to make the best out of what |
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I had, usin a pen and pad |
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There was this girlie that |
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I wanted to get with |
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Who never gave me no play, because |
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I wasn't rollin |
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She said I was too ghetto, and that a brother from the ghetto |
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Couldn't give her nothin but hard times and trouble |
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But bein I was young and dumb |
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And just thinkin bout the putang, had me sprung |
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I used to play myself late at night goin over her house, drinkin 40s |
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Standin on the front porch singin oldies |
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And even though her father used to run me away |
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I used to creep around the side and hit the backgate |
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Tappin on her window, givin her the |
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Ghetto Serenade |
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And it went this way [ CHORUS ] |
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You've got somethin that keeps my head in a spin |
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You've got somethin that makes me wanna give in |
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You've got somethin that turns my head all around |
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You've got somethin that takes me all down [ VERSE 2: W.C. ] |
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I used to ask her all the time, "Yo, why do you play me?" |
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It shouldn't matter that |
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I didn't drive a |
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Mercedes She said that |
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I was probably only good for makin babies |
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And my physical appearance makes me look crazy |
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She said that, "You look like you bang, or maybe even slang And if you wanna be with me, you gotta rearrange" |
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But I wasn't bout to get a flattop or go in a suit |
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And come back in a new |
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BM(W) She said her parents wouldn't approve of the way that |
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I looked, see "And plus you got nothin to give me You wanna get laid? You gotta keep me paid" |
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That's when she lost me, man, cause |
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I ain't payin for the ying-yang |
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And even though |
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I'm feelin bad |
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I feel like this: |
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I can't miss what |
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I never had |
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So I gave it a last shot, and right before |
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I walked away |
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I hit her with the |
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Ghetto Serenade [ CHORUS ] |
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A few years later, now my dues are paid up |
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I got a record out, now |
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I'm rollin in big bucks |
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Flyin all around the world, meetin many girls |
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Everywhere that |
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I go, and makin rap videos |
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And signin autographs the other day |
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I looked up, and guess who was comin my way? |
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The same old girl who never gave me no rhythm |
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But this time standin in the middle of five children |
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She done got fat, and now she's lookin like the cookie monster to me |
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Walkin around with the saggy booty |
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And runnin that drag about how |
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I done matured so much |
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And why I haven't kept in touch? |
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I started laughin in her face, cause to me it was funny |
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Now she wanted me for my money |
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So I turned my back to her, and |
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I walked away |
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Leavin her singin the |
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Ghetto Serenade |
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And here's what she had to say: [ CHORUS ] |
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Hey Dub, man, what's up, man? |
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You done got these braids off your head |
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Got rid of those khaki pants |
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Man, you sure have matured, man |
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How about gettin your telephone number? ...what's up with that, man? |
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Just cause |
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I wasn't givin you no rhythm, that wasn't my fault, man |
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Lookin so good, man... |
