This is a song about "Hood by air"

Smoke ? you know it taste good

Call the crib, same number same hood

My nigga, no hook

From hollywood to the hood

When the depth chart came, there was no me there

Everyday we live and breathe the air

We both grown and i dont care

With that weed in the air

No, not on top but down there

Creepin up on you fell me,cold air.

She do it with no hands

Trapping with the hood rats

But now your under a hood

To mcs that don't rhyme good

Call levi's we can see about the home cook

Feeling blessed i was never in that hood