| 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 |