Dj Khaled - Welcome To My Hood lyrics

rate me

Feat Rick Ross, Plies, Lil Wayne & T-Pain

[T-Pain]

Welcome to my hood

(Where the hood at)

(Where the hood at)

Welcome to my hood

Everybody know everybody

And if I got it everybody got it

Welcome to my hood

Look at all these old school Chevy’s

24s so you know we roll heavy

Welcome to my hood

They outside playing hopscotch

And every know this is the hot spot

Welcome to my hood

Them boys will put you down on your knees

(Woop, woop) That’s the sound of the police

In my hood

[Rick Ross - Verse 1]

Audemar on my wrist

Diamond, look like they glowing

50 stacks, all singles, I make it look like its snowing

Black unmarked cars, gotta peep how they playin’

Treat ‘em like jack boys, catch ‘em slippin’ then slay ‘em

Lord forgive me for my sins, that’s my confessions if they put me in this benz

I got possession of a federal offence

I’m talking pressure in my criminal intent

So wear ya vest’s and I’m still gon’ stunt

Like it aint no tomorrow, f-ck ya house note n-gga

Blow that bitch on a bottle

The Ferrari just a front, got the Lambo in the back

Tell you “we the best forever” DJ Khaled handle that

[T-Pain - Chorus]

[Plies - Verse 2]

I know some n-ggas from my hood that would rob Norieaga

I’m talkin’ Norieaga, n-gga, the real Norieaga

If you aint from the hood, bitch, than stop impersonating us

And tell congress when you see ‘em bitch I’m stealin’ cable

And leave the D-Boys alone ’cause they motivate us

And why is the half of my whole hood on papers

Some are on house arrest, some are on child support

Some of ‘em did they bit, the other half waiting to go to court

Mr Landlord we gon bust your ass with an eviction note

Better have the police with you dog, if you came to repo

I’m talking strip clubs, I’m talking liquor stores

We throw our money round here, but y’all can…

[T-Pain - Chorus]

[Lil Wayne - Verse 3]

Bitch I’m on probation, so my nerves bad

And they say time fly’s, well mine’s first class

I landed in the sky, I fell from the streets

I talk a lot of sh-t and practice what I preach

Back from hell, cell 23, tell the warden kiss my ass

Pockets on Monique

Bitch I’m from the murder capital

Hoe, I’m far from practical

Shit happens and since I’m the shit, I’m who it happens to

Young Money, Cash Money, blood bitch, I’m red hot

I don’t see nobody, see nobody like a head shot

All that bullshit is for the birds, throw some bread out

Got it sewn up, check the thread count

[T-Pain - Chorus]

Thanks to adrianna

Thanks to nita for correcting these lyrics