home from the hood [intro] - mikey px lyrics
[intro]
aye, aye, aye
aye, aye, aye
it’s so important
ya digg?
aye, aye
[verse 1]
aye
i think i need me some closure
tryna’ keep high, i keep focus
when i’m up high
know these n*ggas gon’ stick, like a poster
[?] can’t expose, [?]
tryna keep faith in this sh*t
ain’t tryna’ put faith in a b*tch (k*k*k*kapethagoat)
ain’t tryna’ put faith in that l!ck
it’s all the same, same sh*t
listen close, i’mma paint you a pic’
n*ggas know i be takin’ a risk
if you don’t pay yo sh*t, he abductin’
[?] with all that conjunction
i was high, and i still couldn’t function
i was slippin’ and n*ggas ain’t bussin’
i don’t think that he know what come wit’ it
i ain’t datin’ that b*tch he was f*ckin’
but i ain’t the one that she lovin’
n*gga, [?]
put my life in this sh*t, cause i’m in it
put my life in this sh*t, so i’m wit’ it
i’m talkin’ this mafia business
i’m talking, keep minding yo’ business (aye)
i’m movin’ the pack for the chicken’ (okay)
and my plate in the back of the kitchen (okay)
and i know n*ggas rats, and they snitchin’
and i’m still wearin’ bape in the winter
make sure you pay for the women
d*ck what she ate for the dinner
the b*tch is okay, she a winner
you miss her? okay, come and get her
how do you keep it so cool?
how you be keepin’ yo balance?
walk in the gucci store, what do i see?
some piece, i found it
please don’t believe in me, i’m high as f*ck
can’t keep my balance
please don’t you lean on me, i’m not the one
it feel like malice
you know what it mean to me
i go re*up, you still allow it
that’s what they talkin’ bout * my cadence
see i think i found it
i do not f*ck with xans, it’s flu season
that’s why i’m drowsy
know that she f*ck with me
if i pass out, know she gon’ [?] me
[chorus]:
aye, i was dead, woke up out that coma
police smell my ‘roma
i’m from southern california
all around the world, for some m*th*f*ckin’ yola
glock, f*ck a holster
think lil’ baby need a stroller
aye, i was dead, woke up out that coma
police smell my ‘roma
i’m from southern california
all around the world, for some m*th*f*ckin’ yola
glock, f*ck a holster
think lil’ baby need a stroller
[outro]
so…
you’re a boy from the hood…
would you play with my, my little boy from the hood?
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