So Ghetto

Back at’cha
How we do
Primo, Jigga-Man
History in the makin'
Let’s go
Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH
Uh-huh-uh-uhh, uhh
I spit the murder-murder-murderous
Mur-mur-ma-murderous SHIT
Uh-huh-uh-huh-uh-huh-uh-UHH
I keep the gangsta-gangsta-gangsta
Gah-gah-ga-gangsta, feel me? Uhh
I spit that Brooklyn-Brooklyn-Brook
Uh-uhh, uh-huh-uh-uhh, uh-uhh
Uh-huh-UHH
Career crook, nobody rep Brooklyn like me
Jigga Man, Volume 3, I’m back lookin' like me
Stop the presses, baby girls, drop your dresses
B-K lick a shot for Big Pop' in heaven
Ever since I came through, niggas got the impression
Everything I drop, out of the question, stop the guessin'
It’s hot, flows provin' I pack 'cause my dough’s movin'
My whole crew up in this muh’fucker
We spray corners, stand there like you got a cape on ya, fine
You’ll be wearin' a black suit a long time
I put your crew in hard bottoms
The priest is like, «God's got him
He never did nuttin' to nobody but them boys shot him»
Brandish iron, outlandish buyin'
Bentley Coupes, not braggin' just simply the truth
We all from the ghetto, only difference, we go back
Back up in D&D on this Primo track, listen
I’m so gangsta, prissy chicks don’t wanna fuck with me
«Iceberg Slim, baby ride rims»
I’m so gutter, ghetto girls fall in love with me
«You know him well…» «…by the name of Jigga»
I’m so gangsta, prissy chicks don’t wanna fuck with me
«You can love me or hate me…» «Jay-Z»
I’m so gutter, ghetto girls fall in love with me
«Roc-A-Fella lock the whole block down»
Wednesday’s I’m up in Shine, Cheetah’s Monday night
I’m fuckin' with the model chicks Friday night at Life
So I’m cruisin' in the car with this bougie broad
She said, «Jigga-Man you rich, take the du-rag off»
Hit a U-turn, «Ma I’m droppin' you back off»
Front of the club, «Jigga why you do that for?»
Thug nigga 'til the end, tell a friend bitch
Won’t change for no paper plus I been rich
'88 been hustlin', linen been crushin' 'em
Women been fuckin' 'em, huh?
You see I live for the love of the street
Rap to the ruggedest beats
Hall closet cluttered with heat
I spit that murder-murder-murder
That Brook-Brook-a-Brooklyn shit, furthermore ma
We tote guns to the Grammys
Pop bottles on the White House lawn
Guess I’m just the same old Shawn
I’m so gangsta, prissy chicks don’t wanna fuck with me
«Iceberg Slim, baby ride rims»
I’m so gutter, ghetto girls fall in love with me
«You know him well…» «…by the name of Jigga»
I’m so gangsta, prissy chicks don’t wanna fuck with me
«You can love me or hate me…» «Jay-Z»
I’m so gutter, ghetto girls fall in love with me
«Roc-A-Fella lock the whole block down»
I’m from the M-to-the-A-baby-R-C-Y
So it’s hard for me to let the larceny die
Niggas see me in the streets with no bodyguards
Just two big guns that’ll body your squad
'Cause niggas be schemin' on me, probably are
Think Jigga’s a joke, nigga? Hardy har
I spit Brook-Brook-Brooklyn every time I bust
Radio’s gotta play me though I cuss too much
Magazines say I’m shallow, I never learned to swim
Still they put me on they cover 'cause I earn for them
Soon as I sell too much, watch them turn on him
'Cause that seem to be the shit that’ll earn for them
I spit that murder-murder-murderous every time a verbalist
Iller than Verbal Kint is or O-Dog in Menace
I’m ill, start to finish, I rip apart contenders
I’m hot. hehehehe
I’m so gangsta, prissy chicks don’t wanna fuck with me
«Iceberg Slim, baby ride rims»
I’m so gutter, ghetto girls fall in love with me
«You know him well…» «…by the name of Jigga»
I’m so gangsta, prissy chicks don’t wanna fuck with me
«You can love me or hate me…» «Jay-Z»
I’m so gutter, ghetto girls fall in love with me
«Roc-A-Fella lock the whole block down»
I’m so gangsta, prissy chicks don’t wanna fuck with me, uhh
I’m so gutter, ghetto girls
Hehehe, (uhh, uhh, uh-huh-uh-uhh), yeah
Uhh, yeah, fuck, yeah, with me, yeah, beyotch, yeah
Jigga, yeah, Primo, yeah, gangsta, yeah, niggas, yeah
Brooklyn, yeah