[Crooked I: x2] It feels so good, when you so damn hood
[Crooked I] Peep me out though You niggas soft outta control, on your next video You probably do the splits like the godfather of soul While I'm rottweiler patrol, first I clock dollars Then I pop collars with hoes, I got a problem with foes Still in the club, hot boy dropping them bows Nigga, Crooked I is the one that chicks adore They put their lips on my dick and give me chips and more Yall should stop, you off the block you faking I walk with glocks, don't talk to cops for nathin I brought them choppers in case of al-ter-cation I aims and pops in the face of confrontation Speaking raw terror, I'll have your momma picking paul bearers Broke niggas, yea, y'all error Got to show 'em how to new age rap But I'm still ghetto as the last swallow of Kool-Aid left We so damn hood
[Chorus: Sisqo] Pussy out if you would lets get good baby we so damn hood We ride and another would, its understood that we so damn hood Bust the script if you would, wish you could, nigga we so damn hood Everybody feeling good like we should, baby we so damn hood
[Crooked I] Stop the screaming, can't nobody in the area to help If you was homophobic, nigga you'd be scared of yourself Listen as I, start to whoop ass, why? Would you try Crooked I, will you die like the last guy I told you I would put holes riders man Destiny's Child be the only "Survivors" man Nigga I been hot, whipping the six drop Hit you with ten shots, giving me big props My delivery flip-flops to the tick tock and it don't stop, giving the big glock I'm smacking you haters up, stacking the paper Like I signed an major contract with the Lakers It's C-R put them with E-R double O trouble blow Ghetto star haters split your wig And do the thang in this game 'til I'm O.G. it's Mr. Big
[Chorus]
[Crooked I] How many wanna know what I love? Holla, niggas who love me We six deep in the ridiculous humvee Peeling 50's and dubs off, in the mall Break your face, like Mike Tyson with his gloves off I'm so hood and ghetto fo life I park an five in the driveway and ready to fight If you think I ride with metal you right Commenting federal crimes only an federal type It's like, every where I go, all I know fo' sho' That this The Row, that we gets the dough What's the R-O-W like Slug one and you take your dime because you aint fucking her right Yea yea I nothin fo life, big pipes stuck in your wife In the bed it's us and a dyke You should never get it mixed up, big nuts, get clutched Thick sluts, get fucked, dick sucked, bitch what? (telll meeeee)
[Chorus x2]
Compositores: Dominick Wickliffe, Hutchinson Gregory ECAD: Obra #18009600