Snow, Kate Filmography

• Good Morning America Weekend Edition
  1993, role: actress , character name: Herself - Co-Host

• Lyrics: play full screen play karaoke
• Ghetto Zone - Insane Clown Posse
• Ghetto Zone - ICP (Insane Clown Posse)
• Ghetto Snow - Talib Kweli
• Cudi Zone - Kid Cudi
• Kizuna - F.i.b

They got uzis, they got shotguns, they got explosives
They got access to any kind of weapon they want within 24 hours
We got over 50,000 gangbangers out there
Violent J serving ghetto hard street shit
You know its potent when the funky-ass beat hit
Rolling the dice and we's hittin' point
ICP out of southwest Detroit
Running with a gang of 20 street hoods
Hookers on my back cuz I'm selling them cheap goods
Looking through the motherfucking alleyway
They can't catch Violent crazy-ass psychopath J
But I guess I wasn't so crazy this time
Now I'm chillin in the back of car 49
Yes, rhyme grippin that metal
They put a man on the moon, but can't do shit for the ghetto
I look at all that and it makes me sick
I wanna grab them motherfuckers make em swallow a brick
So I grab anybody I can find
Beat a fiend in the head with a goddamn stop sign
Flex one of us and I'm a find you
Bullet rips through your chest and hits the bitch behind you
Killed two birds with one stone
You're laying in the street with a bullet in your dome
And to those hillbillies listening down south
Talk shit about the city with my nuts in your wife's mouth
And keep stringing on your banjo
Cuz we don't like that shit we're we come from, bro
Now the ICP stands alone in the southwest ghetto zone
Ah, for Christ's sake
Ah, you don't talk about that garbage here
That's for the hell-hole where you come from
This is the good part of town
We let you deal with that type of bullshit
Your problems don't concern us
Go home now, well go on
Southwest Detroit is condemned one's home
The cops just don't know what to do
Jump Steady, Rude Boy, and the PSR
They got my back, O.G., you won't make it far
I got my nine at my gut and it's startin' to hurt
Where can you keep a gat wearing skins and a t-shirt?
Now I'm roaming like a true ghetto thug
Fiends on the sac cuz I'm booming that crack
I know you heard aloud what J said
When I told you that I sold to that bitch, that basehead
Know you can't argue with the truth
If I hit you in your mouth, you're gonna spit out a tooth
And I laugh at a motherfucking cop
Sittin' with his fat ass in a donut shop
At the party where the ICP shows take face
Billy throws the handcuffs all over the place
"We're here to protect and protect we do"
Then I ask who the fuck protects us from you
Cops are always beatin on someone
Shot a mute in the back, he told him not to run
And the motherfucking black panthers know it
That's why some cops now are catching a bullet
I'm runnin, I'm runnin, we'll end the chase
When Jump Steady puts his gauge in your motherfuckin face
Mind your own in the southwest ghetto zone
Hey, yo, G, who the fuck do you think you are, man?
You know who you're fucking with the IC motherfuckin P, G
Why don't you all step the fuck up before you get shot, boy
Keep running your lips, see what happens motherfuckers
Yea, G, see what I'm saying, now what's up with that shit
Come to Del Ray and drive by in shit
The cops just don't know what to do
These are my homeboys, vato
See, are home right here is all we have, man
I love them and they love me back, man
Well I guess I'm a bad guy
Cuz I cuss a lot I say "fuck" a lot
And I rap to tell you how I'm feeling
When I'm in the old spot sit and we reeling
Through Del Ray, call it Hell Ray
It's where ICP stay, yo G
And the forces that always talk shit get beat
And if I'm out numbered I gotta gauge in the backseat
Cuz if I feel I am mack dead
In the trunk of my car I got weapons I'd a never had
A thousand motherfucker in the back make the car saw
Rodney's fat ass make the whole damn muffler drag
Rappin to a sac-chasing Heidi
I told the bitch I ain't never even seen a Mazaratti
Ever sell out to a freak, fuck no
That why I'll tell ya I'll never end up in a box for a ho
When the check comes I ignore it
And the bitch is gonna ask me to fucking pay for it
I give the ho an empty 12-pack
Take your ass to the store and bring some Faygo back
That's all I pay for bitch now get the fuck on ho
Stick around I got something you can suck on ho
Violent J won't be ganked
By no nappy-headed, bare-footed, crackheaded sewer skank
You gotta handle your own
In the southwest ghetto zone
And to all the sets running in southwest Detroit
Good luck and stay strong
Latin Counts
Young Guns
X-men
To the Cobras
And DT
They got uzis, they got shotguns
They got explosives

They got uzis, they got shotguns, they got explosives
They got access to any kind of weapon they want within 24 hours
We got over 50,000 gangbangers out there
Violent J serving ghetto hard street shit
You know its potent when the funky-ass beat hit
Rolling the dice and we's hittin' point
ICP out of southwest Detroit
Running with a gang of 20 street hoods
Hookers on my back cuz I'm selling them cheap goods
Looking through the motherfucking alleyway
They can't catch Violent crazy-ass psychopath J
But I guess I wasn't so crazy this time
Now I'm chillin in the back of car 49
Yes, rhyme grippin that metal
They put a man on the moon, but can't do shit for the ghetto
I look at all that and it makes me sick
I wanna grab them motherfuckers make em swallow a brick
So I grab anybody I can find
Beat a fiend in the head with a goddamn stop sign
Flex one of us and I'm a find you
Bullet rips through your chest and hits the bitch behind you
Killed two birds with one stone
You're laying in the street with a bullet in your dome
And to those hillbillies listening down south
Talk shit about the city with my nuts in your wife's mouth
And keep stringing on your banjo
Cuz we don't like that shit we're we come from, bro
Now the ICP stands alone in the southwest ghetto zone
Ah, for Christ's sake
Ah, you don't talk about that garbage here
That's for the hell-hole where you come from
This is the good part of town
We let you deal with that type of bullshit
Your problems don't concern us
Go home now, well go on
Southwest Detroit is condemned one's home
The cops just don't know what to do
Jump Steady, Rude Boy, and the PSR
They got my back, O.G., you won't make it far
I got my nine at my gut and it's startin' to hurt
Where can you keep a gat wearing skins and a t-shirt?
Now I'm roaming like a true ghetto thug
Fiends on the sac cuz I'm booming that crack
I know you heard aloud what J said
When I told you that I sold to that bitch, that basehead
Know you can't argue with the truth
If I hit you in your mouth, you're gonna spit out a tooth
And I laugh at a motherfucking cop
Sittin' with his fat ass in a donut shop
At the party where the ICP shows take face
Billy throws the handcuffs all over the place
";We're here to protect and protect we do";
Then I ask who the fuck protects us from you
Cops are always beatin on someone
Shot a mute in the back, he told him not to run
And the motherfucking black panthers know it
That's why some cops now are catching a bullet
I'm runnin, I'm runnin, we'll end the chase
When Jump Steady puts his gauge in your motherfuckin face
Mind your own in the southwest ghetto zone
Hey, yo, G, who the fuck do you think you are, man?
You know who you're fucking with the IC motherfuckin P, G
Why don't you all step the fuck up before you get shot, boy
Keep running your lips, see what happens motherfuckers
Yea, G, see what I'm saying, now what's up with that shit
Come to Del Ray and drive by in shit
The cops just don't know what to do
These are my homeboys, vato
See, are home right here is all we have, man
I love them and they love me back, man
Well I guess I'm a bad guy
Cuz I cuss a lot I say ";fuck"; a lot
And I rap to tell you how I'm feeling
When I'm in the old spot sit and we reeling
Through Del Ray, call it Hell Ray
It's where ICP stay, yo G
And the forces that always talk shit get beat
And if I'm out numbered I gotta gauge in the backseat
Cuz if I feel I am mack dead
In the trunk of my car I got weapons I'd a never had
A thousand motherfucker in the back make the car saw
Rodney's fat ass make the whole damn muffler drag
Rappin to a sac-chasing Heidi
I told the bitch I ain't never even seen a Mazaratti
Ever sell out to a freak, fuck no
That why I'll tell ya I'll never end up in a box for a ho
When the check comes I ignore it
And the bitch is gonna ask me to fucking pay for it
I give the ho an empty 12-pack
Take your ass to the store and bring some Faygo back
That's all I pay for bitch now get the fuck on ho
Stick around I got something you can suck on ho
Violent J won't be ganked
By no nappy-headed, bare-footed, crackheaded sewer skank
You gotta handle your own
In the southwest ghetto zone
ICP
And to all the sets running in southwest Detroit
Good luck and stay strong
Latin Counts
Young Guns
CFP
X-men
To the Cobras
And DT
ICP
They got uzis, they got shotguns
They got explosives

Ghetto to ghetto, backyard to yard
We tear it up y'all, bless the mic with the gods (come on)
Precious metals round our necks and arms (yea)
We tear it up y'all, bless the mic with the gods
Ghetto to ghetto, backyard to yard
We tear it up y'all, bless the mic with the gods (come on)
Precious metals round our necks and arms (yea)
We tear it up y'all, bless the mic with the gods
Whatever in your heart is where you want to be
My hood is the ghetto
Even when you look
Its never what you see
My hood is the ghetto
I've been down before up is just a reach
Cause my hood is the ghetto
Catch a second wind
Then begin again
My hood is the ghetto
Black magic in the hood, its tragic but understood
Crack addicts, crack windows, crack wood
Even whats bad becomes good, status becomes stood
Upon the pedestal welcome to the ghetto show
Federal buildings, pissy hallways filled with children pushing children
Fiends lips peeling, shit seems real and
What's real is the estate of mind that we're in
The situation feels great
My man peels weight, so he can fill plates
You might get love but you still feel hate
Through and chain plates, we communicate
Chicago to brooklyn nigga real ones do relate
If lyrics sold then truth be told
I'll probably be just as rich and famous as jay-z
Truthfully I wanna rhyme like common sense
Next best thing I do a record with common sense
Cause its the music, its blues, its jazz, its acoustics
Soul, rock and roll the hip hop we be producing yea
It's the gear, it's the flare, it's the stare
Nowadays they'll shot you where they used to shoot the fair
Remember the lost soldiers, pour a beer, shoot the air
We got our own elected officials, no matter who the mayor
I know you know what I'm talking about
From New York to the South, take off your shoes when you walk in the house
I grew up where they're playing skele in the parking lot
And sell paintings of Aaliyah, BIG and Pac up in the barbershop
Buildings too big so you don't really see the stars a lot
But rapping, drinking, and going to prison you see them bars a lot
I feel the spirit in the dark and hear it in my heart
And always keep my ears to the block till I dearly depart
Hip hop is really the art
We have to express the part of ourselves that make us want to martyr ourselves
It ain't harder to tell when somebody stick you up and put the hammer to you
They want them dead presidents like Stickman and Mutulu
With a gun to your jaw, these kids don't run anymore
Kicks is a hundred or more
A man in front of the store, begging for money and mercy
I told him say a prayer under his breath, he cursed me
Niggaz is thirsty, I heard it's a drought
Up early, serving from their grandmother's house
Sometime the ghetto feels desolate, yo the eyes of the hood yo is desperate
Effected by the deficit, times and lessons get hard
Either get by or get god, but but you try to get by
It's like the block keep blocking
You try to make moves, its like the car just keep stopping
We shorties in the court, need cochran yea
I tell them why the weed seeds popping, in the game you need options

Soarin'
Is this allowed?
I sure bet my daddy proud
A little nigga wit a Shaker smile
On top of the dreams is where I'm found
Some figured I was Satan bound
Until I came back with a style I found
Then all of the sudden they fixed they faces
Cause of who I know and trail of places, that I've stepped
How many niggas wanna hate cause I left?
How could you blame me and my plan of attack?
Cause I'm risking my soul attack
Now I'm heard all over the map
Only rule of thumb:
It don't really matter just where you from
All that really matter is where you're gon' go
Maybe upstate for some
But you can't rule out these claps for gun (?)
Second chances given out for some
All you gotta do is take advantage
So maybe you can get yourself a horse and carriage
Been pimpin' you should think about marriage
Until then get it then
Find yourself and let's begin
Im'a tell you how in a minute,
Im'a show you how I be livin'
From a long time ago, a young nigga, he was timid,
Now I'm zone and see things so vivid
Hide my soul? Nah homie, not even
Im'a zone out till I lose feeling
Remember,
Im'a be gone way past November
Even stay up there, up there
Floatin' floatin' hopin'
I could find peace somewhere
In my, mind sounds like oooooooh...
When I'm gone it feels like ooooooh...
When I zone,
I'm feeling alright
I'm feeling alright
I'm feeling alright
When I zone,
I'm feeling alright
I'm feeling alright
I forget about it all.
Ballin'
Is this allowed?
Without feelin' like Shallow Hal
Diamonds on the Jesus piece for style
Back in Cleveland city we ride around
Greetin' my niggas wit' dap and pounds
So if I fall I won't hit the ground
These are the things that'll make me smile
Knowin' this blunt might burn a while
I keep myself so lifted
I am accustomed to new heights
I feel perfect though they think it's worthless
See without my flight
Man, everybody wanna be a critic
I have my life and I will live it
Shut your mouth before I fuck it
Ha, my jokes they will love it
If I'm seen on the scene with my slim cut jeans
More than likely I am fadin' man
Doin' other shit if everywhere you go niggas ain't just standin' round hatin'
So, my advice is when the lights start flashin'
I'll be zonin' all alone
And then the place where my mind is goin'
Filled with songs that no one's knowin'
And the Devil in a hot pink dress tryin' to ask me for one dance
He think he slick, but my guardians protect me from his wrath
So, in my place no hate shall enter
Livin' high up there, up there
Copin' copin' floatin'
I will find peace somewhere
In my, mind sounds like oooooooh...
When I'm gone it feels like oooooooh...
When I zone,
I'm feeling alright
I'm feeling alright
I'm feeling alright
When I zone,
I'm feeling alright
I'm feeling alright

So many people in the streets, they are in a rush to
live life
I've lived in this city, and it's slowly changed myself
Before I knew, something painted me out to be so black
I bluffed it out by blaming someone to comfort myself
A small gap between us
Betrayal by someone makes me feel nothing
To know the truth is to follow the path of sorrow
To be like yourself
To be like myself
Little by little
Ties between us remain just a good memory
I stand there and see a footprint
I find myself taking a wrong step
I can't go back
I shrink from a vague future
The street is full of lies
There's no real me anymore
It is too late
Before we knew, we have grown up
Throwing away yourself
To be like myself
To be like yourself
Slow and slow
The ties should have been made
They will not get anywhere
I believe and lose it
Have nothing left
I just keep groping my fuckin' way in the darkness
Tears well up in my eyes and I got a dry heart
It finally shies on me