W.C. Lyrics

W.C. Lyrics

"Ghetto Serenade Lyrics"

Fool III (Only Blood Makes Me Sane) Lyrics
The deadly alliance The knife and the silence Have fled the asylum To continue what shall be done His childhood memories flash through my mind I see the cause For his shattered life His daddy was a childrapist His mother the first woman he'd ever kissed Real motherlove he'd always missed Daily beaten by fathers fist His moral decayed his love was

[ VERSE 1: W.C. ]
Back in the days when I was tryin to come up in the rap game
Livin like a [???], bustlin spare change
Drivin a bucket, livin in a shack
Tryin to make the best out of what I had, usin a pen and pad
There was this girlie that I wanted to get with
Who never gave me no play, because I wasn't rollin
She said I was too ghetto, and that a brother from the ghetto
Couldn't give her nothin but hard times and trouble
But bein I was young and dumb
And just thinkin bout the putang, had me sprung
I used to play myself late at night goin over her house, drinkin 40s
Standin on the front porch singin oldies
And even though her father used to run me away
I used to creep around the side and hit the backgate
Tappin on her
IN MY TIME Lyrics
In my mind The golden silver statues turn to tin And I find Confidence is just a place I've been In my mind I was kind When poppa's begging friendship came to me I was blind To think it would be easy to be free In my time I've not lied I tried to save the pride I hold within When I denied Happiness is just a room I'm in In m
window, givin her the Ghetto Serenade
And it went this way
[ CHORUS ]
You've got somethin that keeps my head in a spin
You've got somethin that makes me wanna give in
You've got somethin that turns my head all around
You've got somethin that takes me all down
[ VERSE 2: W.C. ]
I used to ask her all the time, "Yo, why do you play me?"
It shouldn't matter that I didn't drive a Mercedes
She said that I was probably only good for makin babies
And my physical appearance makes me look crazy
She said that, "You look like you bang, or maybe even slang
And if you wanna be with me, you gotta rearrange"
But I wasn't bout to get a flattop or go in a suit
And come back in a new BM(W)
She said her parents wouldn't
Made Man Lyrics
[Talking] Verse:1 B.G. I been in this game for awhile I'm a paid man now (huh bruh) On my sixth solo album I'm a made man now (yep) Six years strong in this game Been doing my thang (respect) Eighteen Livin' a millionaire dream (dream) Whats round my neck is worth ten Gs (off top) Twenty on my roly five on my pinky ring In my younger day I was f
approve of the way that I looked, see
"And plus you got nothin to give me
You wanna get laid? You gotta keep me paid"
That's when she lost me, man, cause I ain't payin for the ying-yang
And even though I'm feelin bad
I feel like this: I can't miss what I never had
So I gave it a last shot, and right before I walked away
I hit her with the Ghetto Serenade
[ CHORUS ]
A few years later, now my dues are paid up
I got a record out, now I'm rollin in big bucks
Flyin all around the world, meetin many girls
Everywhere that I go, and makin rap videos
And signin autographs the other day
I looked up, and guess who was comin my way?
The same old girl who never gave me no rhythm
But this time standin in the middle of five
A Different Kind of Gone Lyrics
There's knots in your stomach Tightness in my throat half the things we say these days get hurled back as a quote we came together easily but something has gone wrong The air has gotten heavy 'cause I'm leaving but I'm a different kind of gone Leaving leads me home to you, darlin try to see I'm put together needing room to remember
children
She done got fat, and now she's lookin like the cookie monster to me
Walkin around with the saggy booty
And runnin that drag about how I done matured so much
And why I haven't kept in touch?
I started laughin in her face, cause to me it was funny
Now she wanted me for my money
So I turned my back to her, and I walked away
Leavin her singin the Ghetto Serenade
And here's what she had to say:
[ CHORUS ]
Hey Dub, man, what's up, man?
You done got these braids off your head
Got rid of those khaki pants
Man, you sure have matured, man
How about gettin your telephone number?
...what's up with that, man?
Just cause I wasn't givin you no rhythm, that wasn't my fault, man
Lookin so good, man...




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