Lyrics:
oh,
all y'all fuck-niggas gon' have to bring it!
Chorus
Verse 3: JT Money
Back in yo' ass, it's the Clan
Spreadin' like a virus, backed by
how we rock it
[Solomon Childs]
Trife Da God, show these niggas why they ain't poppin'
[Trife Da God]
I'm not enthused, by these rap dudes
All in they
What’s happening y’all? It’s
Terrace Martin, ay, so check it out
I got three microphones, three of the
Dopest emcees, a drum machine
Two turntables
the fellas from the hood
Be givin' out your number all night if you could
Relaxing, no pistol packin', now what's this feelin'
Temperature's risin', bass lines
Back, Bring It Back... [x4]
[Outro]
Uh, Uh Uh, Uh, Uh, Uh Uh! Bass [x3]
the hood 'cause I'm dedicated
If I was you, I woulda never made it
I'm holiday, so I'm celebrated
We don't reminisce bitch ass, remember that
Style's
on that tip about stoppin' the violence
About my people she was teachin' me
By not preachin' to me but speakin' to me
In a method that was leisurely, so
money, so I slang that bass
I give a fuck if it's wrong, see I do it for the do
All the Bloods in the hood on the block, they love me
All the Crips
twenty three inch rims
Jumpin' out the Jaguar with the Tims, keep your bread up
And live good
East coast, West coast, worldwide
All my playas in the hood
sheep
(*Kill!*) (*Kill Em Live!*)
*repeat x3*
Verse 2: Chuck D
Mad heads confused by the isms
Bustin caps incoginisms
Phone taps, makin sure
'posed to be the illest on three coasts
Familia, bigga than Icos
Y'all, Danny DeVitoes, small niggaz
All I see is the penny heaters, that's all niggaz
check three
Check game from the notorious Compton G
Back with some shit that gots to bump
As you pull up in the park you pops the trunk
Just
something, here goes nothing
Watch me hit the cray button
Cray, cray, cray
Let's get cray
Turn it all the way up
Got a double dose of bass
You'll love this
Riding Hood.
She always wore a red riding hood.
It was made by her grandma.
Hello, Little Red Riding Hood!
Hi!
Where are you going,
Little Red Riding
Was the money good?, Was em bitches bad? Was them fuckin' good?
Did your hood show you love?, did the hoes say you fly?
If your friends say you're
was hood
But them rappers don't live there they live in Hollywood
Oh surrounded by security and police
But you claim gangsta bullshit pussy nigga
soulflexin'
Richie Rich and 3rd Bass soulflexin'
The cracker cracker Crackerjacks be flexin'
And the LONS be soulflexin'
And the H2O be soulflexin'
And be
parked on 3rd street by Gate house
Where the fire at
Come round thinking shit sweet
Try to take something
Don't try that
Six pack had the Pyrex
My cousin
You can catch me in the hood smokin' good, posted on the lot
Got a pocket full of money 'cause I'm fresh off the block
The hood smokin' good,
money is our specialty
Boys In The Hood keep trying to dig
All girl friends think their heads is big
Promoters at the show trying
To run that bull'
But
distorting, bring it down a lil' bit
Okay, now we working with it
The boy Face on the bass line, Face - Mob!
Welcome to New York City, it's ya boy Young Hov'
don't need love today
Gwan pon the hood
Mi neva make no time to play
Summertime Whine
Pump up at the bass line
Me nuh wan waste no time
Nuh botha me I'm
West Coast leftin
Dirt road steppin
How we crept in
Don’t ask questions
3rd world revolutionaries
Its your karma no confessions
Hecho en Aztlan hecho en
on the bad boy track
Here we go, 3rd (awa) Edge gonna come correct
When I'm licking you first from your feet to your head (where?)
Doesn't really matter
_(cropped).jpg/300px-Hilltop_Hoods_(7235438760)_(cropped).jpg "Hilltop Hoods")
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