Hood Blues Lyrics – DMX
Singer: DMX
Title: Hood Blues
Rrr, come one, brr
What? What?
Brr
Ayo, ayo (Rr)
I’m in the hood (Ah), eighty K house, million dollar net (Uh-huh, ah)
Shot off two hundred rounds, n#gg#s know where we at (Brr, yeah)
My coke be the best, talk no steps (Uh-huh, ah)
Headshot took off, soulless (Boo-boo-boo-boo-boo-boo-boom)
Margiela kicks, Margiela sweats
I’m on the yard doin’ burpees, me, Drop and Fresh
Shooter lean low, he got a new body (Boo-boo-boo-boom)
Pray to Tesla X, you need a new body (Skrrt)
Fifty K, got my b#tch a new body (Ah)
You internet n#gg#s, y’all punani (Rrr)
The Ace of Spades simple, yay dealer
Pray five times a day, get on the wave, n#gg#
Baddest b#tch you ever seen doin’ my braids n#gg#
The Tech echo like it got delays, n#gg#
Your sh#t ain’t sh#t, get out the way, n#gg#
New Yeezys, only me and Ye with ’em (Yeah, ah)
Pay attention (Uh), four on the baby come back then leave seven (Uh, uh)
Guarantee into the rec’ yard, I got the weapon (Ow, ah)
The Butcher comin’, n#gg# (Come on)
Yo, uh
You know how I rock six figures off Zaza
Come and spend at my shop, I turn your hood to a hotspot
Every game I feel like I’m Dame without a stop watch
Shootin’ before the shot clock, Griselda got the top spot (Oh)
Locked down like a pawn shop, n#gg# (Yeah)
I’m thinkin’, “Why not?” (Uh-huh)
I gave my life to the game, but what do I got?
Father these n#gg#s, how? I don’t even know my pops
This flip phone that I got don’t connect to the WiFi
Uh-huh, this new foreign sh#t with the wood on the door
Got me beefin’ with some n#gg#s I could’ve put on
They make up lies and put ’em in songs
I pull up the lots, cop down the block hear me pull in the yard
Yeah, prayin’ with my dirty hands (With my dirty hands)
I did dirt and scam
I’m askin’ God “Do I deserve these bands?” (Do I deserve these bands?)
And we from murder land, eastside sh#t
Jeans purple brand, ridin’ in the GLE, the turtle van (Talk to ’em)
Ah, you throwin’ shots you better be precise (Ah-huh)
If I only squeeze it twice, that’s me bein’ polite (Okay)
We was in the trenches, n#gg#, four chicken wings and rice
The shooter fourteen, can’t read or right when he gon’ squeeze his pipe
We was tryna sell a key at night
‘Cause Nas said a G at night wasn’t good enough
And he was right (Talk to ’em)
They mad I’m rich, the same n#gg#s that wouldn’t see my plight
The next plan, I’m ridin’ to the game with KD tonight, yeah
Machine b#tch, every beat I body
My n#gg# on his way home, he just beat a body
Every time I leave the house, I got the steamer boy me (I got it on me)
My jacket a one of none, you never seen it probably (Woo)
I took some cheddar out the vault to pay the lawyer for my man
Rifle possession and felony assault (You good n#gg#)
Whippin’ up at Unc house, he keep the resi’ off the fork (Keep that)
I’m Kyrie hitting n#gg#s with the hezy on the court, look (Woo)
I reached the point n#gg#s never would’ve thought
‘Cause every time I drop somethin’ I don’t never get support
FN Mag shot, severin’ your corpse
You never could extort me
My heart cold as February 4th (Talk to ’em)
They hate to see me win, I’m not surprised
n#gg#, I’m f#ckin the b#tches them bum b#tches you f#cks idolize
I’m in Harlem at Lighthouse eatin’ lobster fries
Vee & Shooter with me, I got mobster ties
Machine
I grew up at the dark side, apartheid
Where goin’ against the grain’ll get you kidnapped and hogtied
X the illest n#gg#, realest n#gg#
Never been scared, I’m a fearless n#gg#
Got that cannon that’ll remove your head and shoulders
Cats that play in the street get ran over
I’ma make you hand over everything you got
I’m not the average m#th*rf#ck*r
Do damage ’cause I’m a savage
Sometimes I can’t manage all the sh#t in my attic
I was promised the world but I got the dirt instead
It’s just life, I was bred to shed blood
For all my n#gg#s that know me “f#ck you, n#gg#, What ”
Built for war, raw, this .44 will hit you through the door
You exist no more
I done punk’d more n#gg#s than Ashton Kutcher
It’s Westside, Conway, X, Benny the Butcher, n#gg#
Get like you lay, n#gg#
Get how you f#ckin’ lay, n#gg#
You know what the f#ck it is
You know what the f#ck it is, n#gg#
I ain’t fifty years old for nothing, aight
I’m not fifty years old for nothing (We active, n#gg#, we active)
Wish a n#gg# would
And I wish a n#gg# would
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Lyrics DMX – Hood Blues
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