| Yo, where I’m from you hustle hard or you don’t get it
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| I couldn’t tell you 'bout the block if I didn’t live it
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| I couldn’t tell you 'bout the curb if I didn’t sit it
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| 'Bout it, 'bout it all my life, there was no limits
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| In my PJs for 3 days with texts in the wall
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| Middle finger to the cops having sex with the law
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| I know the phones getting tapped, all my texts and calls
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| But I never let the D.A. |
| get the best of me, no
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| Man can you picture that? |
| Oakland be the city where I’m living at
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| Where killas going difference that if they get you then you get them back
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| Youngsters 10, see me getting high, sipping Henny yeah
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| 23, parting with new Benz and the brand new 'lac
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| I wasn’t s’posed to make it, thanks Raegan, I survived Reagan
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| Mama’s getting high, playing Dr. Dre, blazing chronic
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| Mama hooked on crack, never spent a day in phonics
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| Drinking tonic, chasing dreams, homie I was playing Sonic
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| Where you from cuz? |
| Represent yo shit
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| Where you from blood? |
| Represent yo shit
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| Where you from son? |
| Represent yo shit
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| Where you from kid? |
| Represent yo shit
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| Yo what your hood look like? |
| How your hood look?
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| Yo what your hood look like? |
| How your hood look?
|
| Yo what your hood look like? |
| How your hood look?
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| Is your hood full of gangsters and hoodlums?
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| Yeah, a lot of dogs don’t bite but all of 'em bark loud
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| I need you to understand we under a dark cloud
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| I’m staring my thoughts out, your mouth can’t be in if
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| Your heart’s out, see the blue suits with the narks out
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| Slid in hell, get a cell, pick a coffin
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| Bitches is fucking, niggas is pillow talking
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| They gon' kill him, you better get 'em off him
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| When it come to the millions, nigga we get 'em often
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| Hated on by niggas that can’t get right
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| Late night, dice games and pit fights
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| Shoot outs that started off as fight fights
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| Thinking 'bout my niggas that ain’t here on this night
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| We ain’t crazy
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| We just thorough bullets like Carson Palmer to Fitzgerald
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| Yeah I know we still smart, we just ghetto
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| This Y.O. |
| Yonkers, nigga, the six borough
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| Where you from cuz? |
| Represent yo shit
|
| Where you from blood? |
| Represent yo shit
|
| Where you from son? |
| Represent yo shit
|
| Where you from kid? |
| Represent yo shit
|
| Yo what your hood look like? |
| How your hood look?
|
| Yo what your hood look like? |
| How your hood look?
|
| Yo what your hood look like? |
| How your hood look?
|
| Is your hood full of gangsters and hoodlums?
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| Gangsters, hoodlums, killers, convicts
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| Rottweilers, pitbulls, cats and nonsense
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| Old show boxes, pulling them blue trims
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| We got the Tims off, glued like glue sticks
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| You ain’t give this city some hope, now it’s a city of dope
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| If you ain’t pushing Europeans, they consider you broke
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| It ain’t no mystery, my city lost identity
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| But with a couple bars let me break down the history
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| We built this city off rock and dro
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| Pimping hoes, V&V, 2Pac and show
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| Now the streets corrupting innocent and make a move
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| Militant through diligence, get shot over a millicent
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| Eating Scooby Snacks, pop a vitamin
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| Got Heineken, Robert China men, just to shine again
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| Got to rehab to get back out, hit the grind again
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| Pete Rock, do I gotta mind 'em man
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| Where you from cuz? |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song What Yo Hood Like , by - Mistah F.A.B.. Song from the album Son of a Pimp, Pt. 2, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп