Testi How Yo' Hood? - Mac Dre

How Yo' Hood?

I grew up in the Bay Area, around a gang of robbin and shootin\nLooked up to legends like Felix Mitchum, Huey P. Newton\nAnd Todd Shaw a/k/a Too $hort\nBlowin big hashis with dank that’ll make you choke\nYoung Mac Dre, causin major damage\nBack in the days I tossed hoes in the back of my ham sandwich\nGrown, gone, on bomb seed that’s hemp\nHound for potential prostitutes who need a pimp\nBut now I’m bendin corners, fresh out Taradas\nChokin on roper in the back of the Nada\nDrinkin that snake bite, Yukon jack\nAnd boy, I ain’t ride without my strap\nCause them cutthroat bandits will split yo wig\nIn the streets of Killafornia, ya dig?\nIt’s goin down, dog, I’m in your town, dog\nGot to let your peeps know how I clown, dog\nIn the end get it, comin with that blackhand sound\nYou thinkin I can’t clown? Let me put my mack hand down\nHow yo hood look?\nIt’s full of gangsters, fool\nHow yo hood look?\nIt’s full of gangsters, son\nYou can catch me on the Eastside, doin my thing\nOr you can me in New York, boy, it’s all the same\nI’m from the Eastside, where the thugs, they shed blood for nothin\nAfter the club you get it in your mug if you frontin\nWe gangbang, it’s just that our slang’s a little different\nAim a little different, spit game a little different\nGot in with the Mexicans, pricin them things a little different\nSame kinda crooks, but we cook up bricks a little different\nThem old school Chevrolets, our Six Range a little different\nY’all gats and guns the same, but we blow brains a little different\nThem drive-by's, we walk-by's, some die a little different\nLie a little different, testify a little different\nY’all trees ain’t got seeds, y’all beez a little different\nThe d’s is different, my pee’s a little different\nY’all sell bricks, we break it down, get cheese a little different\nY’all hate narcs, we hate cops, we eat a little different\nY’all got strips, we got spots, our blocks a little different\nIt get hot a little different, fools get knocked a little different\nWhen the feds came, yo Dre, they took the whole block to prison\nMy man pops was snitchin, his face chopped in Clinton\nIf you got change and the gear hot, then switch spots, get missin\nYo hood ain’t no different, my hood ain’t no different\nIn my neighborhood everybody thuggin\nHoodrats steady gettin dug in Fools buggin, mean-muggin\nLater on you seem em noggin\nDre, I play my hood all day\nSeen a fool get killed in broad day\nThugs get money from the hallway\n2 for 5, the tall way\nGhetto slang, ghetto game\nWe all just doin that ghetto thang\nRun around totin them metal thangs\nReally, homeboy, it’s all the same\nYo hood is like my hood, son\nAnywhere you go thugs pullin guns\nGangbangers, ghetto birds\nYo hood is like my hood, ya heard?\nMe and Killa finna leet you know\nHow to put a lick down and get some dough\nFrom yo hood to Mexico\nCause it’s all about that paper, though\nPut me up with Vallejo hoe\nThat puff on hay, stay on the low\nDre got work, 800 to 0\nEastside thugs make money, you know?\nI don’t care where we at Just as long as we keep smokin fat\nGet a fifth of Hen and hopin that\nEverybody wanna stay chokin, black\nI told you, Dre, our hood ain’t changed\nThuggin em well, slingin em things\nFools rock Rolies and diamond rings\nRespect the game, our hood’s the same