So Ghetto

[Intro] Back at'cha How we do Preemo, Jiggaman History in the making Let's go Ugh, uh-huh-uh-ugh Uh-huh-uh-ugh, ugh I spit the murder-murder-murderous Muh-muh-muh-murderous shit Uh-huh-uh-huh-uh-huh-uh-ugh I keep it gangsta-gangsta-gangsta Gah-gah-ga-gangsta, bitch! Feel me? Ugh I spit that Brooklyn-Brooklyn-Brook Uh-ugh, uh-huh-uh-ugh, uh-ugh, uh-huh-ugh Yo [Verse 1] Career crook; nobody rep Brooklyn like me Jiggaman, Volume 3: I'm back lookin' like me Stop the presses; baby girls, drop your dresses BK, 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 guessing—it's hot Flows proving; I pack 'cause my dough's moving My whole crew up in this muh'fucker We spray corners; stand there like you got a cape on you Fine—you'll be wearing a black suit a long time I put your crew in hard-bottom The priest is like, "God's got him He never did nothing to nobody, but them boys shot him" Brandish iron, outlandish buying Bentley Coupes—not bragging, just simply the truth We all from the ghetto; only difference, we go back Back up in D&D on this Preemo track—listen [Chorus] 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" (Ugh) [Verse 2] Wednesdays, I'm up in Shine; Cheetah's, Monday night I'm fucking with the model chicks Friday night at Life So I'm cruisin' in the car with this bougie broad She said, "Jiggaman, you rich, take the do-rag off" Hit a U-turn: "Ma, I'm dropping 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 Eighty-eight, been hustling; linen, been crushing 'em Women, been fucking '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 [Chorus] 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" (Check it out now) [Verse 3] 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 y'all 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 said 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! Hahahaha [Chorus] 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" (Ugh, ugh) [Outro] I'm so gangsta, prissy chicks don't wanna fuck with me Ugh I'm so gutter, ghetto girls... Hahaha (Ugh, ugh, uh-huh-uh-ugh) Yeah Ugh, yeah, bump, yeah With me, yeah, biatch, yeah Jigga, yeah, Preemo, yeah Gangsta, yeah, niggas, yeah Brooklyn, yeah