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ghetto gospel - sauce walka lyrics

[intro]
in you and i, there’s a new land
(chamberlain, he’s got it)
let me talk that street sh-t man
my sanctuary, my sanctuary, yeah
in you and i, there’s a new land
ghetto gospel, you know what i’m talkin’ about
angels in flight
wonk uoy naht noitceffa erom deen i
my sanctuary, my sanctuary, yeah

[verse]
broken hearts makin’ million dollar launching pads
i’m from a neighborhood where n-ggas’ att-tude is f-ck a dad
where n-ggas only dream is to ball and stunt with sh-t they never had
but all they end up with is two baby mamas and a jag
weighin’ bags while the neighbors p-ss, hopin’ it double fast
re-up with your rent money, f-ck it up, your -ss potato mash
and from the past, f-ck ups you done had, it ain’t no frontin’ bags
stress awake the evil, now he hittin’ his homeboys for cash
no mask, just settin’ up scenes, he got an acting cl-ss
n-gga get robbed with you and act mad then go and count your cash
sh-t sad, make you wish murder was an app on ipad
download and press one b-tton and k!ll your roach -ss
my lil’ n-gga got three stripes, he ain’t tuckin’ no flags
ever punched a tough n-gga, made him tell jokes like sinbad
walked around your enemy’s hood strapped like gym pads
caught everything i done did, smashed on they b-tch -ss
heard buddy got k!lled for his ho, he loved the b-tch -ss
she was f-ckin’ on his partner, he fought him, and then got sh-t-bagged
doctor said that he was gon’ make it, he had a good chance
but then his kidney failed and he died and this b-tch still playin’
i just seen the b-tch with lou williams and he her sixth man
these hoes will do whatever for d-ck, shoes, and a suntan
b-tches tryna be boo’d up, i’m thinkin’ boudin
before i let a ho wife me i’ll sell food cans
your big homie a buster, he buy his jordans from a shoe stand
he think making shirts for the hood is a g*nius new plan
y’all need to put y’all money together and get him a new van
if he ever play with me i’ma tat his face with a new hand
the laws gettin’ hot in the city, this b-tch like sudan
you can’t play no games with them b-tches, they shoot with two hands
my people yellin’ peace and no violence, they showin’ two hands
but you wake up in the morning, it’s another one on the newsstand
my partner cut his monitor off, he got a new stance
paroled on fifty percent of his time, skip to my lou dance
n-ggas sayin’ f-ck a blue warrant, let’s take the blue chance
nowadays n-ggas do whatever for stacks of blue bands
n-ggas ready to give up they mama to have a blue hand
the sh-t that n-ggas’ll do for a twenty’ll make you puke, man
sad but it’s true, man
gotta clean the table when you chew, man
’cause crumbs done brought the evil out a few, man
they say to do your dirt by your lonely, that’s hard to do, man
’cause pressure always easier felt when done by two, man
but every time you put on a n-gga, he turn to susanne
a b-tch in male clothing, the street sh-t is broken
everybody want all the smoke, this sh-t’s a joke, man
until a hookah burnin’ your chest and it’s blood you’re choking
you never politicked in the hood, you not a spokesman
so stop tellin’ these rappers they good when they do shows, man
pull up to the flyers they on and slap the doorman
make a n-gga say cheese and shade the room with some whoop–ss
y’all n-ggas ain’t havin’ no academics in them bookbags
just good boys that look bad, this street sh-t got so sad

- sauce walka lyrics

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