Our Thing

Ghetto Commission

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Ghetto Commission

Ghetto Commission was a short-lived rap group signed to No Limit Records whose members composed of New Orleans rappers Holloway, G-Spade, Vellario, plus singer Dolliole. The group appeared on many of No Limit's releases from 1998 to 2000, such as Master P's Only God Can Judge Me, Lil' Soldiers' Boot Camp and Mercedes' Rear End. Eventually their first and only album, Wise Guys was released. It didn't make very high on the charts compared to some of No Limit's other chart topping releases, only peaking at #59 on the Billboard 200 and #12 on the Top R&B/Hip-Hop Albums. The group's last appearance for No Limit was on the 504 Boyz song "We Bust". They are now on C-Los record label called "Flame Entertainment" & still rapping together . more »


Year:
1998
3:43
155 

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I'm from the dirty south where niggas go to prison just by word of mouth
Slangin quarter keys to make them G's is what it's all about
I was brought up in the city of Gretna had nerve with that nigga pepper
That's you got to put pressure on me to make it so they test ya
I used to hang across that water that mighty nine and other sections
While lounging in the club, I packed a snub nosed Smith and Wesson
Fuckin' hoes, split the blunts and optimos, that's a war
These niggas out chea cut throat, so the crime rate never falling
It's a swamp nigga, we all ghost fuckin riders as we stunt niggas
That scrappin' shit ain't happenin' see you dead if yous a punk nigga
We floss around in Lexuses, from the boot to Houston, Texas
Any nigga that disrespect us, receive a slug though they vest

I'm from where niggas end up lookin like funnels
When they crossing my tunnel
Left in bloody puddles, so it's a must, I represent my jungle
The bricks bitch, Marrero, where we ride slow
Go to war with Calicos, sending niggas to their burial
I'm tellin' ya niggas'll be smelling ya, back at the canal
Niggas know we living foul with televised murder trials
We hustle, duckin' JP's in laced up Ree's
White T's, we keep our rocks in the same place we keep our teeth
We meet at club James, known for blood stains
Niggas stay in front of Tina's, get caught up in the game
Nigga Chateau there's Place, back of Ames, and the Villa
Betty street, Garden road, west bank, home of killers

From the east bank to the west bank, it's our thing
From the third ward to the ninth ward, it's our thing
It's a N.O. thing, an N.O. thing, an N.O. thing
Throw your hood up and claim nigga, it's an N.O. thing

Let me tell you about them boys in the fifteenth ward
Look they ain't playin
Any altercation with the enemy in they vicinity, they sprayin'
When you see them niggas with the white handkerchiefs
You get to the land of the lost
'Cause these niggas bout they paper, bout they come up at any cost
Many niggas done got killed on the battlefield of McClendon Ville
Ya ain't even gotta question, if these Christopher Homes soldiers real
They knocking nuts off back in the cutoff, them niggas bout it too
You doubt it, go test 'em, you can be another bloody body too
If I was you I'd keep my tool slippin' round them Fischer fools
Dark side, light side, both sides, f*ck, homicide rules
Them boys over the hump poppin' trunks if you gettin' outta line
Algiers niggas packin that iron, respect our fuckin mind

Now all you hear is ninth ward this, nigga ninth ward that
It's Mr. Magic, puttin' my fuckin hood on the map
You wanna die motherfuckers cause you're fuckin with G's
You dig your own fuckin' grave when your fuckin with these
So where my niggas at, throw your fuckin' nine in the air
Respect my mind, I represent it, like I just don't care
Desire and Galvez, nigga Dauphin and Flood
Be the only motherfuckers ever show me love
It's cause of me ninth ward comin up like a storm
So when you see me identify me by the nine on my arm
And if I die motherfuckers better sound the alarm
City under siege, Clinton couldn't stop this bomb

F*ck with us you gettin slapped, only way survive the gun jam
Third ward, parkway, all the way, AK Spray, now tell me who's the baddest
The click I roll with will leave you in the basement
Call your mama, tell her make a replacement
That's nine months she wasted
No years I be facing in the crescent
Tryin' to teach an adolescent, f*ck them niggas I'm suggesting
You keep ya mouth closed, before ya body wind up with holes
Exploding blows, with blood all over your clothes

Check it, I'm camouflaged motherfucker, I'm bustin at they click
I make moves and keep these boss bitches up on my dick
Been camouflaged up, ever since a young buck
I hit the scene like nigga what, do anybody wanna f*ck
With this murda murda killer, blood spiller with rhyme
Or I cut your life short like my part in the last don
So much of a soldier even drove a tank to my prom
Affiliated with crime like you affiliated with moms
Nigga that's it?

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Written by: CRAIG BAZILE, WALTER VALERIO, GARY ARNOLD, QB, DWAYNE LAWRENCE, BYRON DOLLIOLE, MCKINLEY JR PHIPPS, AWOOD JOHNSON

Lyrics © Ultra Tunes

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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