Lyrics:
It's not what's on the outside
It's what's under the hood
[Chorus: x2]
Put the pedal to the metal and I'm off and never getting lost
Which way
the redemption I can offer, girl, is beneath this dirty hood
With a chance to make it good somehow
Hey, what else can we do now?
Except roll down the window
know you fuck with hood rat hoes
Seeing Kane cruising and wanting me and you with them
Cause it went down but you ain't true to them so who is them
I
want to screw me.
Oh-wee I got the goods.
I roll with rich girls to score in the hood.
The folklore true ten inch vegetable,
The sex is
clothes shake like a barber
Whoever who still standing, lay 'em down like carpet
These fake dudes, always want to talk hood
He ain't real, he ain't
kept saying daddy this shit good,
Then I left the room she said this nigga hood.
ridin a bike again
It's that easy, when I spit for the hood
I don't rap (nope), I explain shit real good
Ya'll say why'all thugs?
Well last time I
should
Wearing some jeans a hood
I nearly get my hair done
I'm always good to go
Just need to scratch my old Afro
I won't turn my life around
And I'll never back off,
No,
We pitbullin' in ya club,
Always stay busy like bullets in the hood,
Peace then it's peace,
Beef than it's beef,
Halfhearted
needed a mender
She stuck around
Like a weed in the ground
Raising her voice when given a choice
Never once understood
Why he slept in a hood
Did
runnin' from cops
And Merrero is the place where I got my props
People love me in da hood, they don't want me to stop
So uhh, that's the only way I
the credits
me and Nature stay fuckin with grimlettes
yo the hood baddest the bitches pussy is the fattest
Smack Smack Smack Smack peep Gladys
if you don't
der Hood ab
Springst du Fallschirm oder warum trägst du ein Rucksack
Und ihr alle habt im Knast geblasen
Ja, ich spritze öfter ab als
her from da hood to da gucci store god gave her a o.g for a daddy bad broad for a mama from tank-tops an thongs to them prada pajamas and ima be awake
and raised in the same hood in a roach infested house
Situation critical I think I'm bout to die
The enemy is creepin up and fuckin off my high
A nigga hit
the redemption I can offer, girl, is beneath this dirty hood
With a chance to make it good somehow
Hey, what else can we do now?
Except roll down the window
Pimpin' I been chillin' makin' plenty money
Smokin' plenty of that good good
Keepin' it real
Still be in the hood
Still fuck with the six hypnotized
and guns drawn
Everything bout to go
You ain't no hood ? might go home
Take it easy
They don't want shit
Except yo life
They'll even take a small fry
a masterplan that will change the land, and oya I'm from the dirty south
I be in the hood from dusk till dawn, late at night till the early morn
So when I get
dealing with rage fight to escape the shame
Finger pointing ignites the blame, inner bitterness beginsto flame
Not seeing beyond the hood life is
the hood, you niggas restricted
I turned my whole situation around Mike Vicked it
First shot I miss, I think I still nicked it
Shit change when you watch
came up, slow pitch, change up
Same hood, same style, same drink, same cup
She call me when she wanna fuck
I never call, she knows what's up
Same
number you wait outside
"What else you want?"
And she's only 25
2 kids, her man doin' a bid
Dreams on gettin' out the hood and doin' it big
Picture
bouncin’ on, that’s the real wood
Now drop drop, drop it on the floor
Shawty ass make me wanna put a rock on that ho
I like a real hood bitch that can wobble
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