This is a song about "Hood crips los angeles"

That's right bitches, i aint from the hood

Aye, hold your head homie, look

I got the hood behind me

Third ward general, young cash money

I can always depend on my mama

Washington, d.c to los angeles, ca

I'm chillin' in this hood

My bitches fuck me good

‘cuz they choose colors of bloods and crips in gangs,

I'll beat your ass into a fetal stance

Nigga i'm on that hood stuff

Don’t you be holding back, your love

Call the crib, same number same hood

To mcs that don't rhyme good

With so many others still stuck in the hood

Call levi's we can see about the home cook