Paroles Shorties kaught in the system Lord Finesse

Shorties kaught in the system

[lord finesse]
Check it..
Its all real in the nine-fo
Shorties kaught up in the system
Just close your eyes..
Picture a ghetto - break it down

Back in the days I was livin swell see
I was ridin bikes, rollerskatin and playin skelzies
But nowadays shit is different
Little kids be riffin - the motherfuckers wont listen
Instead of shootin tops they shoot glocks
They point em at cops {*blam*} and thats the way they get props
Yo, they do what they wanna
Fuck a nine to five, they makin gs on the corner
Material things is what they want to scoop
They cant get shit like that, workin for no summer youth
They got clients, they livin like giants
They got the whole drug shit to a science
They got, jewels and beepers, hundred dollar sneakers
Lexus coupes; windows down boomin the speakers
They got, bitches in flavors, probably fuckin your neighbor
Cmon - they got shit under control like the mayor
Man, you see the news today
So how you gonna tell these little kids that schools the way?
Yo - it aint about i.q.; some of these kids
Are makin more than doctors, and didnt finish high school
Teenagers are caught up in the system
And God forbid if you front on em or try to diss em
They got everything, from nines to shotguns
And theyll put two in your chest and lounge til the cops come
If you aint from the ghetto this is undercover
But in ninety-four, shit is real like a motherfucker
Tryin to strive nine-to-five out in the street
Theres no rain or shine, trying to get ends to meet
Fuck the cops they dont obey the law
And if you aint catch on by now, I aint even tryin to say no more

Chorus: repeat 2x

Shorties be wildin
I dont give a fuck!
Im just a squirrel, thats out to get a nut
Get a nine to five
What? that shit sucks!
And besides, I wouldnt make enough

[lord finesse]
In this time and day, kids get paid in all kinds of ways
And get more respect, than niggaz thats three times they age
I know a child thats runnin wild
That say fuck playin tag, hes tryin to get a hundred thou
So its hard to find a stable child
Kids are watchin violent movies, or either got cable now
And they catch on so quick
Bout time they hit 16 they be on some nino brown, g.i. joe shit
When school is out, they just wanna lamp
The last thing on they mind, is motherfuckin summer camp
And eighty out of a hundred
All they wanna do is clock dough, scoop bitches and get blunted
Kids is strapped, they be packin shit
I seen shorties get iller than villains in some action flick
They say times is rough jack
And when you tell em cool out
Man they quick to say, fuck that!

Chorus 2x