Still In Da Hood lyrics by
Walk in this b*tch with prescription pills
It ain't got no seal, I'ma sip it still
Glick in my hand, like, "Be still"
You move wrong, you could be killed
Walked in like the king of the hill
Draco sound like Boomhauer
These n*ggas move like true cowards
In my Girbauds, a few thousand
Glock loaded, I ain't gotta c*ck it
Money rag hanging while I'm in Compton
What's cracking with you, cuz'?
Heard you got that ratchet with you, cuz'
Boy, you must think I'm a stupid f*ck
b*tch, this lighter on me, cuz'
There ain't no way I'm lacking, cuz'
Up this b*tch and back 'em up
Talk stupid, pack him up
Paramedics wrap him up
Glick on me for any occasion
Glock make a n*gga speak Jamaican
My head hurt, where the Percs at?
Make a n*gga take a dirt nap
I walk in this b*tch, like, hold it down
Drac' got her titties done, fifty rounds
Glock got a stick hanging out
Bend the corner in the whip, hanging out it
He fresh as f*ck, he bought the new J's
I'm tryna knock the n*gga outta 'em
n*gga, I'm higher than a b*tch
I'm so high, I see cuz'
I grab my Glock, like, "What the f*ck?"
They say Pap, you a f*cking bug
They blame it on the pills and the mud
They say I ain't sh*t, still give me love
It's fake, but they still give me hugs
They still smile when they dap me up
Talk about me when I'm out of earshot
Point blank range, got a clear shot
Head tap and give him an earshot
n*ggas move like Undercover Brother
Papi just a dirty motherf*cker
Grew up on the east, nobody loved him
He don't need to know how to love nobody
Run down like Treyway, Papi Shotti
I don't know what he said but I shot him
Beam on his head, I got him
They say with braids I look like Rocky
Walk in this b*tch like [?] Posse
I'm high as f*ck, I'm out my body
I don't know where the f*ck I parked my Audi
If you want a deal then don't even call me
The opps mad, they super salty
I don't really like doing no hooks
I dish that rock like a no-look
These n*ggas do not hit no juggs
I'm strapped to the teeth when I'm in the hood
I made so much money on the block
I made way more money than my opps
I say my grace at the pot
Open the safe with my Glock
I can't let 'em take what I got
b*tch, I had to slay for my spot
Real Rx, who gon' say I'm not?
They say the wrong thing, they getting shot
Glock in my hand, I'm Fetty Wap
Spoon in my hand, I'm Betty Crock'
Cook crack in a spaghetti pot
Top rope, Spike Dudley with the leg drop
I beat that work with a egg-beater
Cool it off, throw the plate in the freezer
Cold water running from the sink, leave it
Auntie don't know how to move discretely
Brillo pads all on the f*cking counter
Ain't no money machine on the counter
I don't need a money machine to count up
Cuz' at the table loading rounds up
Spin on the opps, finna do a round-up
They say I paint the picture so vivid
n*gga, this not a picture I'm tryna paint
I'm tryna tell you how the f*ck I'm living
Rap good, but I still hit licks
Still up the Glock and take your sh*t
Still bring auntie off of stims
Still in the hood, it is what it is
They say, "Papi, one day you gon' get a deal"
Yeah, whatever, you still ain't getting no deal
I got weed, hard, soft and pills
Make one call, I'll be there