Felonies - Boyz N Da Hood

What’s up with partner, Where he live, Where he stay at

Where the ice, where the bread, where the yay at?

I’m telling you man you don’t want it with dem boyz

Everyone of them got felonies man!

I’m slap me a nigga, before its over with

I’m rush me a nigga, before its over with

Duct tape me a nigga, before its over with

I’m bust me a nigga, before its over with

I’m sick & I’m tired of niggas asking bout mine

If I’m cockin' that iron, I’m telling you I’m sending them signs

I move fast forward I ain’t got no button to rewind

I react of instinct I ain’t stressing' no time

I came a long way from peddlin' rocks

Block recognized the gangsta & he up my stock

Showed me the recipe & other grams I copped

Home ain’t a home with outta arm & hammer box

Shit, Jeezy just be beeped on that cell

Got them pre-teen numbers I like, like R. Kelly (I got that work nigga)

Lotta niggas they be claimin' the spot

But we the only ones that still represent it like mascots

So ask not why my attitude is shitty

Step aside while a real nigga move the city, huh

From my block to your block niggas know me

They know that ol' reppin' ass niggas a O. G

We use to rock flip-flops, tube socks with gold teeth

And a flip flop crease with gold shoes on all they feet

Please believe we ain’t playing no games

But I will take a charge if you try to drive my lane

Plus I gotta donkey dick to drive the broads insane

I’m a street cat, shit you know I’m hard to tame

I’m a gangsta motherfucka if you ever seen one

Black fitted cap nigga & some Air Force One’s

Hey and I’m strapped so don’t set trip

.45 hit cha make your whole chest split

Sleepy Brown nigga I can’t wait

Fifty grand round my neck like bait

Hey and keep thinking its gravy

Everybody from my hood know Jeezy is crazy

And I ain’t playin' wit cha motherfuckers

Shoot both of y’all make y’all niggas blood brothers (that's righhht)

And I’m so sincere, I ain’t playing wit cha niggas this year

(Hey we gone rob dem Boyz n Da Hood) Bitch please

I’ll kill a mothafucker by Jody Breeze

Yeah nigga that’s the truth, by Big Dee Big Duke I’ll shoot

I’m telling you man I be rollin' on dem corner no Range no necklace man

Range Rover no rims left they neck in the pain

And put the silencer on the tip professional man

Pressure point blank like a sexual change

And split cha head down the middle like a sectional man

Hard blow to hard coat expose the four

Even though I tote gun I don’t rob no more

Now here I go on the patio with a flat head screwdriver

Prying on the side door in a gat proof suit liner

Calm but I’m wide open they act I’m do something

Quite its going down on 'em with a Mack 11 two rifle

Pistol, pumps, switch & knives

Pistol grips, smoked clips, nightsticks & players

No myth I’m him fucka get hypnotized

Now get killed in the mist we suggest you ride

Well I’m the youngest in the click boy try me like a bitch

And I’ll bet cha I’ll be the first to punch you in ya shit

Y’all niggas just talking, y’all niggas ain’t ready

Y’all niggas don’t want none of this

While y’all out spending 100's on your necks

Spending 100's on your wrist, spending 100's on your rims

I’m on the block spending 100's on bricks

Sending 100's to the J gotta 100 more fits

Fake niggas get killed round here

Its trill in the ville betta get it how you live

And if not cock back bust at cha cock suckers motherfucka in fact I will

Cause the niggas that I roll with and blow dro with

Fuck hoes with they outta control

Realer in bumpin' chevy’s with Mac 11's holdin' it steady

Ready to put seven up in your belly boy