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lirik lagu hood bih – texaco millz

hood bih lyrics
intro:
(bottlelifecartel beat tag)

texaco millz verse 1
she a hood bih, that’s a bih from the hood
she the type to catch a body so she wish a b*tch would
real fine everytime you see her she lookin good
no any n*gga can have her they all wishin they could
rockin 6*13 in a 26 like she z
white tipped her nails n feet
same routine every week
soul food got her thick so she ain’t get shots
call her anne donovan the way she be on the block
she book n street smart it ain’t hard for her to peep
bout her paper like b.g, just just like me
a classy b*tch from the hood that’s what a young n*gga need
cause i get jammed i know she gone hold it down til im free, cause
chorus:
she a hood bih, but you bet not call her b*tch tho (bet not)
she from the jects still classy like a rich hoe (im from da hood)
real fine yeah she get it from her mammy (i do)
she don’t play she a gangsta like her daddy (try me)
designer purse where she keep her pocket rocket (i stay strap)
still mix her pickled egg wit her hot sausage (anddd?)
she single cause she don’t need a n*gga she independent (f*ck em)
i found out a hood b*tch what a n*gga missing

pootatheproblem verse:
and ever since i can remember always been about gwala
and im still screaming free gwala cause thats a real top shotta
my shooter do you no problem yep b*tch im poota the problem
he love i speak that gutta sh*t its cause im from the bottom b*tch
hard times, hardship, poverty, and now we bossed up, properties
i got your n*gga topping me can’t seem to get him off of me
hood bih but got good sense, i know he got some good d*ck
i wanna take em to the locks right now but the block is hot right now
he wanna take me to the spot, know that chobe’ turn you out
just like martin get to steppin you missed out on your blessings
i turn my losses to lessons we making plays in the jag
them broke days never look back you played yourself and thats that

chorus:
she a hood bih, but you bet not call her b*tch tho (bet not)
she from the jects still classy like a rich hoe (im from da hood)
real fine yeah she get it from her mammy (i do)
she don’t play she a gangsta like her daddy (try me)
designer purse where she keep her pocket rocket (i stay strap)
still mix her pickled egg wit her hot sausage (anddd?)
she single cause she don’t need a n*gga she independent (f*ck em)
i found out a hood b*tch what a n*gga missing
texaco millz verse 2:
a hood b*tch, that’s the realest u gone ever meet
don’t like b*tches in her business so she gone keep it discreet
both feet, she 10 toes down like her daddy was
n*ggas snitched on em n the streets lost another plug
now she holdin all the weight
she do hair, minks, boost n pop checks outta state
keep hoes out her face, cause she ain’t wit the drama
she know b*tches be envious she learned that from her mama
bank account full of commas what she be focused on
don’t need no n*gga plus she vow to leave the locals alone
she 22, just like her pistol, hot like crystal
can tell how she mix the sausage wit the pickle she a hood bih a hood bih

- texaco millz

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