Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song My Hood, artist - Killah Priest. Album song Priesthood, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 21.11.2005
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Babygrande
Song language: English
My Hood |
| Huh, huh, huh |
| Money, drugs, and sex |
| All in My Hood |
| In My Hood |
| In My Hood |
| In My Hood, yo, yo |
| What up little nigga, what you smokin on? |
| Only 14, product of a broken home |
| Out late, tryin to tell me that you’re makin your livin |
| Tryin to see how much weed you can take in your system |
| Indeed, take out the seeds, then he finished his sentence |
| Askin me what I believe, have I ever repented? |
| Type of shit niggas talk about when they get high |
| Passed out, hazy eye, lettin days go by |
| Bullshittin one another with the same old lies |
| Tryin hard not to show all that pain inside |
| Saw the clouds turnin black like an angel died |
| Preacher sayin you a curse if you don’t pay your tithes |
| It’s like that to the day that our loved ones die |
| Lookin up at the sky, «Please sun come shine» |
| But all we see is dark days, ain’t no sun rays |
| Only gun plagues, in My Hood |
| In My Hood (Look around, what you see? Tragedy) |
| In My Hood (The place to be, in My Hood) |
| In My Hood (Look around try to be free) |
| In My Hood (Come with me to My Hood) |
| In My Hood (Look around at what you see) |
| In My Hood (Tragedy, in My Hood) |
| (Look around to be free) |
| (Come with me to My Hood) |
| We’ve got Pirus and P-Stones |
| Damu and El-Rukn's, in Hell feudin, the 60's movement |
| The death of Newton, the resurrection of Clarence X students |
| The revolution, this is rebel music |
| The other day a young lady threw her baby of the roof end |
| Six niggas died from homicide and drug shootins |
| My homey’s mom just went of the loose end |
| From drugs abusin, this is thug amusin |
| Bloods and Crips, huggin the strips |
| Lovin they clips, sittin on dubs in they whips |
| Folks, GD’s and vice lords, when night falls |
| Black pimps and white whores, from the immortal words of Jeff Fort |
| To death do us all, the sets I recall, til we rest in the morgue |
| From the pilgrimage of Larry Hoover, to the Tribes of Judah |
| We live our lives through ya, in My Hood |
| Cuz outside there’s a Cold War |
| And inside niggas waitin on their roll call |
| When friends, dies niggas ride for their road dogs |
| Don’t know why we all cry when the soul fall |
| Yo, we got uncles comin home from doin a bid |
| Move in ya crib, with you and ya rib, is how a few of us live |
| The rest is always in debt, feel with heartaches and stress |
| Can’t argue cuz God makes the test |
| I hear oldies from OG’s who go OT |
| Some OD in doorways, out cold for four days |
| It’s like that all day |
| We gat rollin 60's, foldin 50's |
| Triple-O's in the Windy City |
| Latin Kings, Manhattan Queens |
| Spanish cobras, band of shoulders, families of soldiers |
| 40 busters, 4 corner hustlers |
| From west side, to Bed-Stuy |
| Neta’s in fiestas in neckties, Wepa |
| Ese, and Chevy’s with hydraulics |
| This is God Knowledge |
| Spin it down for the hood, it’s all good |
| In My Hood |
| It’s all good in My Hood |