A couple milli in the bag and my face good
I rap for the children who don't wanna be in the hood,
Pack a bad bitch then i pass it to my nigga meek
Dougie fresh up in the hood and he's bringing me my weed
I don't live in the hood
Lobsters and shrimp im good
I love it when it's girl upon girl with one manay, put your butt on my mustache, fuck that
And i'm rhymin' up about all of this shit up in the 'hood 'cuz i'm a street poet,
All my homies in this thang wish a nigga would
These are al the symptoms of growing up in tha hood.
The little engine that could, this little nigga is good
Just cause im not shootin, smoking, or crippin in the hood
Better than your bitch would,i can kill yall niggas in the fucking hood.
Rollin’ and chokin’ and movin’ slow motion, i’m floatin' on good
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