This is a song about "Shoot up the rival hood"

While i'm in the back talkin' to my other broad

Under the hood when she looked up saw and thought

Fistful of wood, twisted for the good

If theres a time that in the hood

Dougie fresh up in the hood and he's bringing me my weed

So they hurtin but what's for certain you can get you some heat

To mcs that don't rhyme good

From hollywood to the hood

Drive to your hood and start shoot

But radio ain't trying to follow suit

Then for efficiency we shoot up ya funeral

To make karma come faster than she normally will

Call the crib, same number same hood

Aye, hold your head homie, look