[Verse 1]
I'm from NY, the Bronx 183
Motherfuckers, the Ghetto Child is straight from the gutter
I'm in the town of the four pounds and crooked crooks
I occupy the streets like yayo and hard cook
Older men are shook, it's really amazing
They got young frustrated shorty's out here blazing
When the hopes and dreams, the way that it seems
Since 13 I got drafted by the fucking Dream Team
Can't be broke without a cast it won't last
The streets highlights, yo the kid need money fast
Looking out the corner of my eyes made me realize
Life or death but it won't be suicide
Street corners, haunted with ghosts, invisible toast
It's like where the bodies really fall off most
Extend my arms, for quarter donations
I remember I used to rob Mexicans at my train station
The name of my life, the game of my fame
I know how it really feels when your pops is on the night train
Tears soaked my faces in beautiful places
It's still trauma
I gotta play cops and robbers

[Scratch Hook] {x2}
"You'll start waking up" - C-Rayz Walz 'Whodafukareyou?'
"Serious business" - Xzibit
"Stay awake to the ways of the world" - Wu-Tang Clan 'C.R.E.A.M.'
"The act is so simple so get involved"
"Do the knowledge before any words get said" - Brand Nubian 'Back Up Off The Wall'

[Verse 2]
Ayo I turned 13, I was out on my own
My moms didn't buy me shit, I got disowned
Resort to self support yo, money reports
I remember summer time, five days I ran the same shorts
Smoking New Ports, the Ghetto Child of New York
'92 was the year I took pork on my fork
I had to take advantage
HA! Like a savage
Click, click, cock back and bust your cabbage
Cause we always Living Proof sipping 80 proof
Tuesday, 9-11 I seen smoke from the roof
Warfare category yo
Mama praying for me
I grabbed the 'caine out the closet and turned shame to glory
Money is the story
Paper is the object
I'm quick to dialect, gun language in the projects
It's hot shit
Yo, you better acknowledge it
When a bitch on her knees make her swallow it
The wake up call is upon all of y'all
Like the clouds above
To my crew one love
A million misconceptions
Misdirection of your false blessings
This is the wake up call
Get slapped up while you're resting
[Scratch Hook]

[Verse 3]
Ayo the Ghetto Child I came out at perfect timing
Real slummed out, back of the building, authentic rhyming
I'm always in a circle, or a cipher just spitting
My life is forbidden
So much pressure in my hand into the pen
Till the words start printing
In my rhyme pad
Anger passed down by my dad
I leave the streets to go to sleep
Dream of street corners
Falling in Hell, sometimes I feel like a goner
But there's no escape, from fate
When your mind state is hungry as Hell and you need food on your plate
I never gave up
Even when I was stuck
You sold your soul for a buck
I kept it rough and tough
But patience is a virtue
You let the labels hurt you
I back 'em down with an AK like I'm supposed to
That's [?]
My whole aura, it will roast you
The wake up call
But Death he will come and haunt you
[Scratch Hook]