Bullys wit Fullys and Clyde Carson - So Hood

Hell yeah
E-A-Ski, CMT track
Hahaha
Yeah, Bullys Wit Fullys part three
Messy Marv, Guce, Fillmoe
Hunters Point, it don't stop, let's go

I'm switchin' lanes with them stunnas on my face
Chop in the trunk, wally on my waist
Back in the game, nigga, feelin' like Mase
Red J Jonas with the red shoe lace
Deuces on the load, rocks in my load
The ice in my mouth keep my Nextel froze
Have you ever seen a scrape with the Lamborghini doors?
Bitch I thizz and play with my nose

Ayy
The girls, the girls they love me
It's the project lover
But I'm a gang banger, and a drug smuggler
Gucey Guce, dope boy got the cake mix
I make it wet in the kitchen doin' late shift (yeah)
See I been 'bout it, other niggaz rap about it
If you got it cuz (cuz), then blood better ask about it (blood)
We in the jungle bangin' them hammers, orangutans
Goin' bananas in the game, throwin' up the gang

When I roll up, streets show love
I just wanna be on the block with my thugs (yeah)
I just wanna sit in the drop on my dubs (ayy)
Open up the doors and turn the beat up, 'cause
I'm from the ghetto, baby (I'm from the ghetto)
I'm from the hood (I'm from the hood)
When in my ghetto, baby, I know I'm good, good (good)

These niggas got toolies but that ain't no heat
I'll slap one of you niggaz like a E-A-Ski beat
I had these Girbauds on four about a week
Ya boy look grimy but the money look sweet
You got me fucked up, bitch, this The Bay
Millionaire niggas do this shit all day
I'll lay everybody down in the room
But whatever I do, I'ma stay a tycoon

Ayy
What you know 'bout bricks and traps?
Bullys Wit Fullys is a gang in all black and strapped
I'm not a rapper (rapper), I'm a street nigga (street nigga)
I'm so hungry with this heat tryin' to eat nigga
Real talk we in this bitch buyin' out the bar
Talk shit I'll make this cold iron hot to yo' jaw
Represent gangstas, two step hustlers
Hands in the air you gettin' cookies on sight

When I roll up, streets show love
I just wanna be on the block with my thugs (yeah)
I just wanna sit in the drop on my dubs (ayy)
Open up the doors and turn the beat up, 'cause
I'm from the ghetto, baby (I'm from the ghetto)
I'm from the hood (I'm from the hood)
When in my ghetto, baby, I know I'm good, good (good)

It's murder on mind, and all on a ho
Richmond, Vallejo, the City, and the O
Gang Dog Blood, oh, what you didn't know?
Good weed in my mouth, MAC on the floor
You ridin' with a star, bitch, feelin' like whoa
She feelin' like stay but I'm feelin' like go
And I ain't got nothin' against the new Bay
I used to ride through with Fab nigga back in the day

You already know Bullys Wit Fullys is so hood
Guce and Tay now we got Mess, the nigga so hood
Pill Music got you sort of like some wet wet
You in the club gang bangin' throwin' up ya set
Me and Mess dog runnin' the game (runnin' the game)
Six hundred back to back dog huggin' the lane
Yeah this .50 Cal., make it worth ya while
Have your body goin' dumb off a lotta grams

When I roll up, streets show love
I just wanna be on the block with my thugs (yeah)
I just wanna sit in the drop on my dubs (ayy)
Open up the doors and turn the beat up, 'cause
I'm from the ghetto, baby (I'm from the ghetto)
I'm from the hood (I'm from the hood)
When in my ghetto, baby, I know I'm good, good (good)

Written by:
Marvin Watson, Shavel L. Pope, Clyde Nyle Kalin Carson Parrish

Publisher:
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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