Talib Kweli

Ghetto Snow

Talib Kweli


(feat. Common, Anthony Hamilton) 

[Intro: Talib Kweli] 
Ghetto to ghetto, backyard to yard 
We tear it up y'all, bless the mic with the gods (come on) 
Precious metals round our necks and arms (yea) 
We tear it up y'all, bless the mic with the gods 
Ghetto to ghetto, backyard to yard 
We tear it up y'all, bless the mic with the gods (come on) 
Precious metals round our necks and arms (yea) 
We tear it up y'all, bless the mic with the gods 

[Hook: Anthony Hamilton] 
Whatever in your heart is where you want to be 
My hood is the ghetto 
Even when you look 
Its never what you see 
My hood is the ghetto 
I've been down before up is just a reach 
Cause my hood is the ghetto 
Catch a second wind 
Then begin again 
My hood is the ghetto 

[Verse 1: Common] 
Black magic in the hood, its tragic but understood 
Crack addicts, crack windows, crack wood 
Even whats bad becomes good, status becomes stood 
Upon the pedestal welcome to the ghetto show 
Federal buildings, pissy hallways filled with children pushing
children 
Fiends lips peeling, shit seems real and 
What's real is the estate of mind that we're in 
The situation feels great 
My man peels weight, so he can fill plates 
You might get love but you still feel hate 
Through and chain plates, we communicate 
Chicago to brooklyn nigga real ones do relate 

[Verse 2: Talib Kweli] 
If lyrics sold then truth be told 
I'll probably be just as rich and famous as jay-z 
Truthfully I wanna rhyme like common sense 
Next best thing I do a record with common sense 
Cause its the music, its blues, its jazz, its acoustics 
Soul, rock and roll the hip hop we be producing yea 
It's the gear, it's the flare, it's the stare 
Nowadays they'll shot you where they used to shoot the fair 
Remember the lost soldiers, pour a beer, shoot the air 
We got our own elected officials, no matter who the mayor 
I know you know what I'm talking about 
From New York to the South, take off your shoes when you walk in
the house 

[Hook] 

[Verse 3: Talib Kweli] 
Yo 
I grew up where they're playing skele in the parking lot 
And sell paintings of Aaliyah, BIG and Pac up in the barbershop

Buildings too big so you don't really see the stars a lot 
But rapping, drinking, and going to prison you see them bars a
lot 
I feel the spirit in the dark and hear it in my heart 
And always keep my ears to the block till I dearly depart 
Hip hop is really the art 
We have to express the part of ourselves that make us want to
martyr ourselves 
It ain't harder to tell when somebody stick you up and put the
hammer to you 
They want them dead presidents like Stickman and Mutulu 
With a gun to your jaw, these kids don't run anymore 
Kicks is a hundred or more 

[Verse 4: Common] 
A man in front of the store, begging for money and mercy 
I told him say a prayer under his breath, he cursed me 
Niggaz is thirsty, I heard it's a drought 
Up early, serving from their grandmother's house 
Sometime the ghetto feels desolate, yo the eyes of the hood yo
is desperate 
Effected by the deficit, times and lessons get hard 
Either get by or get god, but but you try to get by 
It's like the block keep blocking 
You try to make moves, its like the car just keep stopping 
We shorties in the court, need cochran yea 
I tell them why the weed seeds popping, in the game you need
options 
No time for feet watching, me and kwe keep rocking for the
ghetto 

[Hook times 2]