Hey living these days ain't no joke
Fiends they smoke and every young brother sells coke
And if not they affiliated with the game
It ain't like the old days in '93 thangs changed
A young brotha might blast ya if he has to
And a punk won't last a
Second in the place where I'm living at
Cause everybody and they momma's pack gats
Some pack these Tech-9s and might live fine
But a try boy keeps thangs straight
Cause it ain't nothing like suburbia
Cause in the hood a young soldier might murder ya
Its kind of sick when you're watching your partner get killed
Straight feel off the earth dying over turf
That the other man owns but us youngsters don't know this
We killing one another just to show who the dopest
While us brothas is capping the 'blue eyed devil' is laughing
And my cuddies is dying man I wonder what happened
To the peace and togetherness 'black fists' raised in the air
But us youngsters don't care
So I wonder partner 'is unity a dream?'
So kick back to my ghetto theme
And it goes like this
Young players got to get it together
Young players got to get it together
Young players got to get it together
Young players got to get it together
(What's up? What's up?)
Young players got to get it together
Young players got to get it together
Young players got to get it together
Young players got to get it together
Back in the days I never tripped but then I noticed
That people were my color were coming up the shortest
Life ain't cool for a young soldier stuck on the streets
He got 'mail' on his mind plus a 'nine' and fools talk about peace
All he wants is his piece of the pie
Can't get no '9-to-5' so on the streets he got to strive
And do what he got to do to get his money on
So don't trip when you see him with the cellular phone
Cause that's the way that he's pimping the system
Strictly coming up with all the fools against him
Dealing with the mass confusion
Robbing and looting
And drive by shootings
But in the ghetto its an everyday thang thou
Without togetherness things ain't gone change thou
I was told to keep my 'eyes-on-the-prize' but I can't
So I hind behind the dank and the drank
To camouflage all my pain, ghetto got us insane
Since our vision is blurry we don't know this maine
We need to come together on these inner city streets
Cause if we don't we all going to be deceased
Peep the ghetto theme
Young players got to get it together
Young players got to get it together
(What's up? What's up?)
Young players got to get it together
Young players got to get it together
In '93 it ain't the government mind tricks
It's young brotha's with the gats and the clips
That's quick to click and shoot
For practically nothing,
Because these brotha's these days man have no patience
School ain't cool when you're learning about the slave days
And all the presidents making all them slave trades
You should see you're turning the future into the past
This folks pass a brother going to blast
On another damn I thought we smarter than that
But it seems without the gats we ain't even all that
Plus some fools with a sag in our pants
We need to put the nine's down and let our minds advance
Young sister yeah she's a pregnant-free teen
But she don't know that once she was a queen and her man was a king
Now her man sells dope on the avenue
I know its true but this is what they push us to
Brotha's man we have way too much hate
We might be from different states but we all from the same place
Times is hard but they ain't hard as it seems
All I do is say 'peace' and kick my ghetto theme
Young players got to get it together
Young players got to get it together
(What's up? What's up?)
Young players got to get it together
Young players got to get it together
(And peep... And peep...)
Young players got to get it together
Young players got to get it together
(That's right! That's right!)
Young players got to get it together
Young players got to get it together
Yeah... this Mac Mall
Just letting y'all know
Yall brotha's in 'the Bay'
Man we got to get it together
So make let them know...