Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Hood Rules, artist - K Rino. Album song Triple Darkness, Vol. 1: Wreck Time, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 05.02.2008
Record label: Black Book - SoSouth
Song language: English
Hood Rules |
Yeah |
Hood curriculum |
We bust you like lead blocks, pinpoint like red dots |
Start taking aim, nothing to the body only head shots |
Grind hard and move weight, all work at a fixed rate |
Jack a fool today then tomorrow sell him a mixtape |
Our paper’s roll like bowl game, the more love the more pain |
Hustlers on a highway with a trunk load full of cocaine |
We leave you at a standstill, hit you like an anvil |
Acting like you gangster when you not can get a man killed |
We hit up without knowing, every tooth in ya mouth gone |
Got love for all my hood chicks from Hallistock to South Lawn |
Come down with ya price man, we ain’t gonna say it twice man |
My hood holds the records for most cats murdered in dice games |
Whether rich man or poor man, I never feared no man |
My foe ran, I chased him down and trapped him with my slow hand |
And every street’s a fast street, thirteen year-olds blast heat |
And every five or ten minutes a hater gets his ass beat |
If they disrespect the hood rules knock them down fast |
One thing and we don’t like is people playing with our cash |
If you scared to ride say that, gangsters don’t play that |
Wherever you pull a stunt is where ya body gonna lay at |
You better get your pride up before them killers ride up |
You walk inside your crib and find your whole family tied up |
Them boys is on the down low, speaking with they close friends |
And the average girl done messed around with more women than most men |
We stack loot like Plywood from your hood to my hood |
I hate to see my people broke I’d help 'em all if I could |
You hungry, get your head right and then go and get your bread straight |
Anybody in your clique who ain’t about paper is dead weight |
Snitching will get you head black, attack and blow your wig back |
You parked your car at night off in the projects, shouldn’ta did that |
And hustle is a chess game, better make the right move |
And boys committing more crimes in the daylight than the night fool |
If Plan A don’t work out, I’ll push it up to Plan Z |
The only language I speak is money in my hand, G |
And never trust nobody man the whole game is wicked |
Boys selling out quick as two dollar Super Bowl tickets |
I’m from the city where they glorify bullshit like codeine |
Half the dudes I grew up with either sell dope or dope-fiends |
But it’s to fight and who got partners better bring the right ones |
When it comes to cop sometimes the black ones be worse than the white ones |
Had a deal to pump your bread up, they jacked you when y’all met up |
The chick you was in love with was the one that had you set up |
And long after you bail out, I’m staying on my mail route |
And still gon' hold it down for every soldier in the jailhouse |
Man these streets won’t let you pass, rob you fast without a mask |
Leave your ass on the side of the road like a motherfucking car that ran out of |
gas |
Boys get on you like a rash, keep your dough and look for cash |
Went to the room with a prostitute then fell asleep and she beat you and took |
your stash |
If you keep it one hundred I’ll promise it’s all good fool |
Whatever town you live in you better learn these hood rules |
And hope you suck the knowledge up, the shife don’t even try it |
'Cause by the time you learn the game is too late to apply it |