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INTRO/HUSTLE 2 STRUGGLE
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Produced by 'ChordZ'(TRACK 1 STARTS @ 1:39)
snoop dogg battlecat ghetto child ent terrace martin tiffany foxx young walt yung walt
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INDEPENDENT HIP-HOP(NEW SCHOOL)
YUNG WALT: C.E.O. AND FIRST ARTIST OF "GHETTOCHILD ENTERTAINMENT" 17 TRACK ALBUM FEATURES GUEST APPERENCES BY SNOOP DOGG,JAMES,TIFFANY FOXX,FRANK LEE WHITE,COI,QUAZE,J-BLACK,YN,AND X2...AS WELL AS PRODUTION BY INDUSTRY HEAVY HITTERS SUCH AS BATTLECAT,ChordZ,KNotCH,1500orNUTHIN,AND TERRACE MARTIN ******ALBUM PURCHASES VIA PAYPAL ARE AVALIBLE ON MY MESSAGE BOARD******
Song Info
Genre
Hip-Hop • New School
Charts
Peak #112
Peak in subgenre #14
Author
YuNG WaLT
Rights
GhettoChildEnt.
Uploaded
March 04, 2006
Track Files
MP3
MP3 14.3 MB • 320 kbps • 6:15
Story behind the song
THE STRUGGLE...PLEASE NOTE THAT TRACK 1 ACTUALLY STARTS 1:39 IN.
Lyrics
INTRO I know its comin/ but change gotta make it cuz its no otha option/ but to make it just face it..im the BEST/ yall basic like me and you starin eye 2 eye/just face it i get on tracks/ and run on'em just like asics no rappers wanna race him/ mite wanna erase him well get ya numba 2'z out/ work on ya penmenship im at the dealership/ spendin for my penmenship(niccaaa) now its back 2 the basics/ where i find mah'self couldnt get a deal FUCK IT/ so i signed mah'self C.E.O. of my own shit/ GHETTO CHILD ENT no labels gone fuck me/ cuz WALT got his own dick i do it 4 the streetz/ cuz they got mah'back open a deal 4 a couple mill/ swear 2 God im comin back and if i dont/ here's my invatation..come and get me rob me 4 the fancy things/ cuz we KNOW thats what fancy brings fuck the fancy things/ imma get the HOOD right REAL ESTATE...REC CENTERS/ NEW SCHOOLS...NEW BOOKS "SECTION 8" EVERYTHING/ get my people on they feet cuz thats the ONLY WAY I CAN SLEEP.../ with NO piece....peace HUSTLE 2 STRUGGLE [verse 1] I am weezy, not "F.BABY"/ but i respect "The Carter" im no longer Yung Walt nomore/ so call me WALTER GROWN MAN, and i been stressin/ every since my adolescence learned a hard lesson/ hard-headed, didnt have no father present Cristmas came..no presents/ my momz did the best she did its hard tryna live off the county/ with 2 rebellious kids its just the GHETTO LIFE/ i breathe and i love it alotta food-stamps 4 the groceries/ no car we had to bus it sittin on the back of the bus/ with people steppin on our groceries i can tell this aint how life suppose to be "fruit snacks" stepped on/ "eggs" all busted momz still bitchin/ she couldnt afford the "mustard" so i gotta play "catch-up"/ forced to play catch-up no job..RAP or BALL-PLAY?/ CRACK is what they left him so you know i did EVERYTHING/ hustlin?..IM BOUT THAT momz stressin i pay billz/ maaan, i gotta get her out that [Hook](repeat x2) I went from cookin in the kitchen/ to shootin out with hataz it'll take alotta "Converse"/ to replace my "Chuck Taylors" see me grind from the BOTTOM/ just to make it to the BOTTOM and we...HUSTLE 2 STRUGGLE/ still endin up at the BOTTOM [verse 2] and you know i cant see it comin down my eyes so i grab my pen and pad/ the pen is my eyes the ink is the tears that i cry every night my feelins wont let me i wanna quit but dont let me Lord grant me the serinity to dont let me give up and live up 2 my expectations everybody in my hood waitin/ on me to make it...no fakin... AND IM THEY SCAPEGOAT DAMN RIGHT IM MY HOODS RIGHT WORK AND THEY CANT BREATHE WITHOUT ME... and you can check my resume/ i did everything that i say guns..drugs..robbery/ COME 2 THE HOOD, THEY VOUCHE 4 ME and i DONT MEAN TO GLORIFY/ or BONIFY the street livin that we LIVE IN/ i did that and it AINT A GOOD FEELIN but they LOVE when i rap/ that ghetto music thats fluent and INFLUENCE THE GHETTO KIDS/ to GO 2 SCHOOL, dont be truent and i was in the hood every day/ getttin it how i do it SO DONT TELL ME BOUT THESE STREETS MUTHAFUCKA/ CUZ U WAS TRUENT [hook](repeat x2) [verse 3] my mind scramble like Randle/ my toughts polluted my cousins a pimp&chooser/ my aunt is a drug abuser...damn we in the TRAP../either u smoke it or you deal it get SHOT UP or DO THE KILLIN/ its a horrifyin feelin... when YA HOMIES SERVE YA MOM ROCKS DADDIES IN A PINE BOX/ and you just took 5 shots...damn and every day we get harrasment by detectives search us..find the heat/ they dont wanna hear "its 4 protection"...look jail?...thats hell when you get up in it/ but you learn where the love when you get up in the court room/ no 1 there but ya momma she there to the case finish every time u call ya girl/ she dont except ya callz...naw and you get the word ya BEST FRIEND IS FUCKIN now you aint EATIN RIGHT/ or SLEEPIN RIGHT, you more sicker call the hood...homies dead/ there go sommore liquor b4 you go JUDGIN US.../ TOU
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