.

Hood Tales Lyrics

Hood Tales Lyrics

[Intro]
Let's get it right
New n***** is coming to eat up all the food
(Gangsta Grillz!)
Man they hungry
It's an appetite for destruction out here
The mob is equipped with full-armed artillery
What ya gon' do?
(DJ Drama, f*** these n***** up!)

[Verse 1]
I was born in Harlem where them things pop
At the block parties, n***** had to run
And they caught the m************ on the same block
And [?] was the one with a gun
R.I.P. Lil [?], Sharon, why they kill ya son?
d*** it, if I could've did it, I'ma hit 'em with the ton
c***-a-d***, little-d***, feeling s***, hot in ya lungs
Turn you b**** n***** to a couple nuns (Lay 'em down)
I came in the store and saw the whole thing
He said, "I hope that you not one of them"
Then I run around the corner, got the OGs
I told 'em, "We got jumped by a couple punks"
I swear to God, these n***** softer than the Brady Bunch
They gon' get it, man, this s*** been goin' for a couple months
Then turn around the corner, seen a crowd looking stunned
With the [?] shaking on the floor, not saying nothin'
[Hook]
This just where we from
We all dyin' some day
At a picnic having fun
Probably dyin' by the gun
This just where we from
We prayin' every Sunday
When the killas gonna come
She about to lose her son, son

[Verse 2]
Let me D bop
Spanish n****, everybody thought he black (From the block)
Used to wear a tank top with a fresh fade
OJ, kinda fat
Face stay greasy [?] all you eatin'
Thug n**** with the Cuban on the neck
Always carried a tech, Dominicano
Trappin' the bando, Orlando, he was Diablo in the flesh
[?] got into a little mess with D Bach
And he shot up the block with the Desert
'Bout to leave him messy but the bullets hit the belly
You could call me Hollywood, not "the hood Tyler Perry"
n***** making movies, more n***** getting buried
n***** died, Desert, but this s*** ain't really necessary
Caught up in the life, he got rich and got blurry
He took his own life and the one that he married, Ferg
[Hook]
This just where we from
We all dyin' some day
At a picnic having fun
Probably dyin' by the gun
This just where we from
We prayin' every Sunday
When the killas gonna come
She about to lose her son, son
This just where we from
We all dyin' some day
At a picnic having fun
Probably dyin' by the gun
This just where we from
We prayin' every Sunday
When the killas gonna come
She about to lose her son, son
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