Hood - HoodRich Pablo Juan, Kenny Beats, Baby Uiie

Doubled with the Perc, I stayed down

They wrestling in the trap, I’m playing like Draymond

I had them bitches at the same time

Feed my Crips that’s on my main line

The thing that’s sparkling this Rollie

Wrist drip, it’s this Rolex

Poppin' bitches swear they know me

I got the hood on my shoulders

Pulled up with bricks in the hood

I stayed down and got rich in the hood

Bad bitch, pussy good

Got a shell case for the .38 with the wood

I should hit me a jugg, I’m good

Put a whole 3.5 in a Backwoods

I don’t fuck with these niggas, they Hollywood

Cum in that bitch and I’m dabbing like Robin Hood

Getting that money, fucking these bitches

Fuck the police, we don’t fuck with no snitches

Stayed down, went from the rags to the riches

Me and Baby Uiie run up the digits

Ooh, let me stop for a minute

Fuck that bullshit, we got Glocks with extensions

Real niggas, we don’t beef over mentions

We still in the hood, in the trenches

Came from the hood, I was raised in the concrete

Getting money, I ain’t got time to sleep

Jumped out the Porsche and landed on my feet

Back then, I ain’t know nothing 'bout a beat

I ain’t know nothing 'bout rap

They ain’t know nothing 'bout me

Came from the belly of the beast

You ain’t never seen a nigga like me

I’m trapping all day, fuck the police, we gotta get it

Real street nigga riding 'round with it

Got a trap house filled up with bricks and the pounds in it

Shipping the pack like I pitch on the mound with it

Givenchy with the stars, couldn’t walk a mile in it

I don’t need money counters or accountant

Got fifty-thousand, money stacked up like mountains

I’m drinking lean like it comes out of fountains

We don’t know how to sit on no couches

Still in the hood with the bags and the ounces

I ain’t worried 'bout no nigga, I keep counting

I just drop off the pack and I’m rerouting

Pour a 4 in the Faygo, a 5 in the red Woods

African diamonds cost a lot of canned goods

Sending twenty to my mansion in Ellenwood

Cookies, you know them ain’t no edibles

Pulled up with bricks in the hood

I stayed down and got rich in the hood

Bad bitch, pussy good

Got a shell case for the .38 with the wood

I should hit me a jugg, I’m good

Put a whole 3.5 in a Backwoods

I don’t fuck with these niggas, they Hollywood

Cum in that bitch and I’m dabbing like Robin Hood

Getting that money, fucking these bitches

Fuck the police, we don’t fuck with no snitches

Stayed down, went from the rags to the riches

Me and Baby Uiie run up the digits

Ooh, let me stop for a minute

Fuck that bullshit, we got Glocks with extensions

Real niggas, we don’t beef over mentions

We still in the hood, in the trenches

Just found a bitch on the «Explore» page

Bust a pint on the Tech, pour up four ways

Fresh everyday, I got cake like my birthday

They like my swag and my lingo, my wordplay

I caught a skurt on a Thursday

I come from the PJ the worst way

I just want the PJ the private way

I don’t give these bitches the time of day

I’m eating Ruth’s Chris, the filet

I’m eating cookies, they come from the Bay

Foreign whip when I touch down in the A

Counting money, please stay out the way

Rock designer, they wanna know what I pay

Rock a gold chain like I just won first place

My niggas strapped up with dirty K’s

We got the gas like the Circle K

Rocking Off-White with my Kanye’s

Chains on like a runaway

Strapped the fuck up, nigga, ready for gun play

Church’s Chickens on a Sunday

I’m smoking that wonder brick, cookie candyland

Counting up the bands, I know I can

Hang in the hood with a money flag

Got a bookbag full of country bands

I’m in the hood, they thought I wouldn’t make it

Now I’m shopping all the way out in Vegas

I’m rich, these bitches trying to have my baby

Copped the Audi and the brand new Mercedes

I made the money, never made me

Got chains on like a slave

I rock designer all day

Fuck you, gotta pay me

Pulled up with bricks in the hood

I stayed down and got rich in the hood

Bad bitch, pussy good

Got a shell case for the .38 with the wood

I should hit me a jugg, I’m good

Put a whole 3.5 in a Backwoods

I don’t fuck with these niggas, they Hollywood

Cum in that bitch and I’m dabbing like Robin Hood

Getting that money, fucking these bitches

Fuck the police, we don’t fuck with no snitches

Stayed down, went from the rags to the riches

Me and Baby Uiie run up the digits

Ooh, let me stop for a minute

Fuck that bullshit, we got Glocks with extensions

Real niggas, we don’t beef over mentions

We still in the hood, in the trenches