Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Hood, artist - HoodRich Pablo Juan. Album song South Dark, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 07.08.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: D.O.T.S, Money Power Respect
Song language: English
Hood |
Doubled with the Perc, I stayed down |
They wrestling in the trap, I’m playing like Draymond |
I had them bitches at the same time |
Feed my Crips that’s on my main line |
The thing that’s sparkling this Rollie |
Wrist drip, it’s this Rolex |
Poppin' bitches swear they know me |
I got the hood on my shoulders |
Pulled up with bricks in the hood |
I stayed down and got rich in the hood |
Bad bitch, pussy good |
Got a shell case for the .38 with the wood |
I should hit me a jugg, I’m good |
Put a whole 3.5 in a Backwoods |
I don’t fuck with these niggas, they Hollywood |
Cum in that bitch and I’m dabbing like Robin Hood |
Getting that money, fucking these bitches |
Fuck the police, we don’t fuck with no snitches |
Stayed down, went from the rags to the riches |
Me and Baby Uiie run up the digits |
Ooh, let me stop for a minute |
Fuck that bullshit, we got Glocks with extensions |
Real niggas, we don’t beef over mentions |
We still in the hood, in the trenches |
Came from the hood, I was raised in the concrete |
Getting money, I ain’t got time to sleep |
Jumped out the Porsche and landed on my feet |
Back then, I ain’t know nothing 'bout a beat |
I ain’t know nothing 'bout rap |
They ain’t know nothing 'bout me |
Came from the belly of the beast |
You ain’t never seen a nigga like me |
I’m trapping all day, fuck the police, we gotta get it |
Real street nigga riding 'round with it |
Got a trap house filled up with bricks and the pounds in it |
Shipping the pack like I pitch on the mound with it |
Givenchy with the stars, couldn’t walk a mile in it |
I don’t need money counters or accountant |
Got fifty-thousand, money stacked up like mountains |
I’m drinking lean like it comes out of fountains |
We don’t know how to sit on no couches |
Still in the hood with the bags and the ounces |
I ain’t worried 'bout no nigga, I keep counting |
I just drop off the pack and I’m rerouting |
Pour a 4 in the Faygo, a 5 in the red Woods |
African diamonds cost a lot of canned goods |
Sending twenty to my mansion in Ellenwood |
Cookies, you know them ain’t no edibles |
Pulled up with bricks in the hood |
I stayed down and got rich in the hood |
Bad bitch, pussy good |
Got a shell case for the .38 with the wood |
I should hit me a jugg, I’m good |
Put a whole 3.5 in a Backwoods |
I don’t fuck with these niggas, they Hollywood |
Cum in that bitch and I’m dabbing like Robin Hood |
Getting that money, fucking these bitches |
Fuck the police, we don’t fuck with no snitches |
Stayed down, went from the rags to the riches |
Me and Baby Uiie run up the digits |
Ooh, let me stop for a minute |
Fuck that bullshit, we got Glocks with extensions |
Real niggas, we don’t beef over mentions |
We still in the hood, in the trenches |
Just found a bitch on the «Explore» page |
Bust a pint on the Tech, pour up four ways |
Fresh everyday, I got cake like my birthday |
They like my swag and my lingo, my wordplay |
I caught a skurt on a Thursday |
I come from the PJ the worst way |
I just want the PJ the private way |
I don’t give these bitches the time of day |
I’m eating Ruth’s Chris, the filet |
I’m eating cookies, they come from the Bay |
Foreign whip when I touch down in the A |
Counting money, please stay out the way |
Rock designer, they wanna know what I pay |
Rock a gold chain like I just won first place |
My niggas strapped up with dirty K’s |
We got the gas like the Circle K |
Rocking Off-White with my Kanye’s |
Chains on like a runaway |
Strapped the fuck up, nigga, ready for gun play |
Church’s Chickens on a Sunday |
I’m smoking that wonder brick, cookie candyland |
Counting up the bands, I know I can |
Hang in the hood with a money flag |
Got a bookbag full of country bands |
I’m in the hood, they thought I wouldn’t make it |
Now I’m shopping all the way out in Vegas |
I’m rich, these bitches trying to have my baby |
Copped the Audi and the brand new Mercedes |
I made the money, never made me |
Got chains on like a slave |
I rock designer all day |
Fuck you, gotta pay me |
Pulled up with bricks in the hood |
I stayed down and got rich in the hood |
Bad bitch, pussy good |
Got a shell case for the .38 with the wood |
I should hit me a jugg, I’m good |
Put a whole 3.5 in a Backwoods |
I don’t fuck with these niggas, they Hollywood |
Cum in that bitch and I’m dabbing like Robin Hood |
Getting that money, fucking these bitches |
Fuck the police, we don’t fuck with no snitches |
Stayed down, went from the rags to the riches |
Me and Baby Uiie run up the digits |
Ooh, let me stop for a minute |
Fuck that bullshit, we got Glocks with extensions |
Real niggas, we don’t beef over mentions |
We still in the hood, in the trenches |