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jose guapo & shy glizzy - hood rat lyrics
[chorus: shy glizzy]
i ain’t had a girl in a long, long time
i don’t even know what love feel like
girl how you gon’ hang in the hood all the time
and you don’t even know what thugs feel like
i’m screamin’ f-ck these b-tches, it’s money over b-tches
i smoke one to the head then i take that to the grave
i’m screamin’ f-ck these b-tches, it’s money over b-tches
i smoke one to the head then i take that to the grave, uh
[verse 1: jose guapo]
she said she ain’t never ever date a thug
that’s because all she ever date is strubs
roll it up, all we ever smoke is drugs
i’m connected, b-tch i bet i know the plug
i’m with a driver, sh-t i think i’m george bush
i hope out smokin’, smellin’ like a pound of kush
she wanna f-ck my tattoos like the song say
i’m high, so this b-tch look like beyonce (she bad)
the baddest b-tch actin’ like she not a groupie
yeah right ho, she know she can’t even fool me
and she know i’m a hood star
i can’t f-ck one, she know i need two or more
[chorus: shy glizzy]
i ain’t had a girl in a long, long time
i don’t even know what love feel like
girl how you gon’ hang in the hood all the time
and you don’t even know what thugs feel like
i’m screamin’ f-ck these b-tches, it’s money over b-tches
i smoke one to the head then i take that to the grave
i’m screamin’ f-ck these b-tches, it’s money over b-tches
i smoke one to the head then i take that to the grave, uh
[verse 2: shy glizzy]
let me kick my pimpin’, hold up, wait, listen
met a b-tch named diamond, i told her mines glistenin’
aww, that n-gg- main ho missin’
i seen that girl strippin’, should’ve seen how i was tippin’
like clothes designer, my b-tches from the hood
had a b-tch that went to howard, she thought she was too good
got a b-tch that steal clothes, got a b-tch that make juggs
pick ’em up before they fall like a real n-gg- should
in love, i need a girl that sell the blanco
a b-tch that help a n-gg- whip up all this d-mn c-ke
got your instagram crush with me ’round the yo
your b-tch be on the pole, my b-tches be in fashion shows
[chorus: shy glizzy]
i ain’t had a girl in a long, long time
i don’t even know what love feel like
girl how you gon’ hang in the hood all the time
and you don’t even know what thugs feel like
i’m screamin’ f-ck these b-tches, it’s money over b-tches
i smoke one to the head then i take that to the grave
i’m screamin’ f-ck these b-tches, it’s money over b-tches
i smoke one to the head then i take that to the grave, uh
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