All Right Then (feat. King Los) - Wyclef Jean feat. King Los

I got ghetto dope in my vein, I got yellow rope on my...
I got ghetto dope in my vein, yellow gold on my chain

I got ghetto dope in my vein, yellow gold on my chain
I fly in that Maserati like Melo go through the lane

I say fuck these niggas and what they say
You don't know me, pretend to know me
Fuck these niggas and what they say
You don't know me, pretend to know me

I got ghetto dope in my vein, yellow gold on my chain
I fly in that Maserati like Melo go through the lane

I say fuck these niggas and what I say
You don't know me, pretend to know me
Fuck these niggas and what they say
You don't know me, pretend to know me

All right then, all right then
All right then, hah?

Melo go through the lane, we men all do the same
That one McLaren with a seat in the middle now
Raised with the killa can while you playin mad man
Ain't no superhero here but the X-Men
Everybody lookin for survival so they are so
The man that hold the gun is the hand that rocks the cradle

Born in the gutter, covered in struggle
Smothered in hustle where brothers hate you as much as yo mother can love you
Motherfuckers that buck you over them green bags
Subtracting crème's the method, I'm method over the clean trap
It was shock when they shot my father, the shock was on em
Was hoppin off em and onto me is a prophet, recall it

When I landed in the land of glory I was barely ten
I was raised in a hut with them barbarians
Burner hear my bubble good, shootin from the project roof
Papa was a preacher, I was bishop cause I had the juice
Real talk when I rode gone til November
It's cause if Baltimore that murdered my nigga in November

All right then, hah?

I got ghetto dope in my vein, yellow gold on my chain
I fly in that Maserati like Melo go through the lane

I say fuck these niggas and what I say
You don't know me, pretend to know me
Fuck these niggas and what they say
You don't know me, pretend to know me

All right then, all right then, hah?

It's the author, unorthodox
Orthodoxin the water, no culture shop
You ain't strapped, you a hold the top
I holt the top 'cause the bottom comin
Got em runnin, call the cops
I'm callin shots like tech whistles
Fuck you like groupie tex, detects missiles that be technical
Ya'll niggas is ho oh oh oh oh oh
Fuck em, we flippin bundles, them bitches tumble like
Gold medal winners, gold medal in em, boy we stretch em
When we catch him it's like he caught a cold
'Cause he get a coffee, never speak on it cold
Never geek on yo niggas and never creep with a ho
That be exactly how they found you, just a creep and a ho
My niggas be quick to pull them litres, leave you leakin for dough

All right then, all right then, hah?

I got ghetto dope in my vein, yellow gold on my chain
I fly in that Maserati like Melo go through the lane

Pour some liquor 'cause the good die young
Banana clipped up but he sure young
Welcome to the jungle where they treat us like we animals
Haiti, the Bitstock chronicles
Murder murder – that's what you hear when they pull up in the middle of the night
When they ready for the stick up
Hiccup hiccup hiccups, you ain't bout the rubber grip
If you only had 3, why would one be a death wish
This is the truth but I said this before
Whether I'm in Haiti or Baltimore
Import more shooters who run through yo door
And it'll be yo body lyin on the floor
Out in the mob, they go through your organ
In the church they play the organ
C-c-c-c-ca-cry-cry-crows-crows fly fly
It's 5 o'clock, do you know?
You kids, ha-have you been notified-fied-fied

All right then, all right then
All right then, hah?
All right then, all right then
All right then, hah?



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