You think ghetto is a state of mind
A part of your kid, you wish they would never find
A drug dealer that trys to saty on the grind
Did you ever think that being "ghetto" can help
   help you out of a bind
Baggy shirts and baggy jeans
You already have it in your head what it means
Let me tell you their not always fens
Everyday it always seems
Seems to you
That their in a gang
Rock red or rock blue
You think they always got something to do
Something to do with the bad
They never happy, but always mad
Rebelling against their parents
Showing them their sad
The one who gave your sixteen yr old daughter crabs
Thats fucked up
You on that stuff
Because we are real
Who we are is how we feel
We don't have to deal
We do what we have to to live here
Pass the moments
Drink a beer
We have limited fear
Because ya'll will leave and we will stear
Stear this world
Weither we be a punkrock boy or a ghetto girl
Sit down and listen we'll throw yo mind in a whirl
Don't judge me for what you see
But what I be
Not outside but in
The way I dress is not a sin
And lookin at me does not show you where i've been
You think ghetto is a state of mind
A part of your kid you wish they would never find
It's not a cry for help, but a simple sign
A sign for us and who we are
No need to sell bars
Or steal cars
Just reach for those stars
Maybe the way I dress is my fear of being dependent
Dependent in a world where I have the right to be    
   independent.