Lyrics:
Bad Bouth South
Block Entertainment
I see you block!
Boyz N Da Hood
I like this right here
y'all ready?
Come on
Lets ride
Its Boyz N Da Hood
from)
I gotta dust 'em if I rush 'em
And these niggaz don't look like they want to tussle (fuck 'em)
I'm a creep to the who-ride - all by my lonely
the hood
Be like an engine
I don't understand that, I don't follow
I be trending give a model my opinion
One that I ain't' even have to share
Black Suit,
don't give a fuck
If I said it then I meant it and what fuck nigga
Stand up
You don't want to see the triggerman bust
Hit you and your mans up, make it
Say I'm too hood, might be
Don't give a damn what you think about me
Say I'ma goon, that's me
Don't give a damn what you think about me, nigga
[Verse
Controlled by my demons
No life
No life
No reason to live
When you don't see a f**king way out
Stick to yourself
F**k all the rest
Don't give up
Be strong
head if it's bout dat cash
Give me a dickey I don't need that outfit (hol' up)
A 305 fitted jus to match my kicks (hol' up)
'Cause bitch I'm alive
Redeemin' the ancients with ace this rhyme jargon
I feel Mexican, hip hop is my garden
Don't give a fuck where you chartin', certain shit I can't honor
It
Westwood
Used to be on section 8, now my section is good
Thugged Out niggas, we eat as much as we could
And I don't give a fuck (what!) Yo I save my
Lulu, give me whatever I ask
Bucket low like Ace Boogie, I re-up two hundred cash (uh)
Richest nigga in my city, got my neck on Rick the Ruler (yeah)
know we don't give a fuck it's not your birthday
You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub'
Look mami, I got the X if you into takin' drugs
hood wit' it like mine (yeah)
Mean walk and talk, Chris help me tell 'em wassup
I got all this love inside of me
And all I wanna do is give it
exotic bitches by the dozen, can't never miss a loss
She don't talk more than two languages, she not the one (not)
Real diamonds on me, you can see it
'm a sponge, knowledge, and wisdom I absorb fast
I'm in a class by myself, you do the math
God gave me style, God gave me grace
God give me style, God give
It's time, I came to get mine
Runnin' through the hoods with a hand on the nine
Why do the pigs come?
Bring your ass on cross the line so I can
T-raw rock my own kick game
Eight figure deal figure how I'm courtside at clip game
Still pop ace king shit I'm with Rozay
Black Maybach leather
winning everybody want a dap up
Gettin' money now your friends wanna act up
I don’t really give a fuck I’ma go hard
No stress, couple cars in the front yard
There ain't an ace in the cards I was dealt
I'm thirty-one, still don't know how to take care of myself
Honestly, I'm scared that I might melt
Leave
y'all rat bitches sound garbage
While me and Ross like the hood version of bombings
Bars give me style like when you steppin in my
The 38 special in my
to give you
They tried to cool with ya chill with ya take no pictures
What the fuck I look like standing by you police ass niggas
How you let a nigga
Flyer than a kite, I get higher than Rapunzel
Keep the Snow White, I can buy it by the bundle
Step ya cookies up, 'fore they crumble
Don't be actin'
(What!)
I still walk through the hood by motherfucking myself
And if I have some beef nigga I don't need know help
A nega ain't Puffy and a nigga ain't
a rat
Damn, niggas switchin' sides on niggas just like that
You know me, I stay wit' a bitch on her knees
And give guns away in the hood like
Flip two aces and get two face cards
It happens, chip stackin'
I turn around, see a bunch of chicks clappin'
But a girl walked by, caught my eye
So I
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