Makeover
You say I need a makeover,
that I'm not the man I could be
You say I'm too rough around the edges,
a little smoothing out would polish me
To you, I'm too straight ghetto;
I got the right mind,
just tilted a little wrong
Instead of saying I'm leaving,
I say I be gone
So let the makeover begin,
but I don't know what
will be different when it end
Will my family recognize me,
will I need a new set of friends?
A bad vibe is arising,
trepidation is setting in
Now I'm willing to make this sacrifice
to satisfy your insecurity
But once the makeover is done,
will you still like what you see
In due time no doubt you'll learn
this one immutable reality:
You can take me out of the ghetto,
but you can't take the ghetto out of me
Although you may refine my speech
to talk in a proper Elizabethan tone,
I will always remain ghetto,
straight ghetto to the bone
I will tell it like it is,
I will only come strong
I will always remain ghetto,
straight ghetto to the bone
A tribute to my beloved brother Joseph
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