Lyrics In da Hood - Spazz
Smoking
out,
pouring
up,
keep
that
lean
up
in
my
cup
All
my
car
got
leather
and
wood
in
my
hood
we
call
it
buck
Everybody
wanna
ball,
holla
at
broads
at
the
mall
If
he
up,
watch
him
fall,
I
can't
fuck
with
y'all
(Pussy
ass
ho
niggas)
I
can't
fuck
with
y'all
(Bitches
all
up
in
my
business)
I
can't
fuck
with
y'all
(Industry
of
counterfeits)
I
can't
fuck
with
y'all
Taking
off
when
you
landing
Bitch
niggas
wanna
throw
tantrums
And
I'm
dancing
on
them
stars
The
galaxy
ain't
got
room
for
y'all
Ain't
nothing
gonna
happen
soon
for
y'all
While
I'm
here
and
every
day
I
hear
Your
bullshit,
self-pity
Reason
why
you
never
dealt
with
me
Reason
why
your
girl
dealt
with
me
Hands
up,
in
the
building,
we
get
busy
and
say
R.I.P.
Aaliyah,
R.I.P.,
yep,
R.I.P.
Aaliyah,
R.I.P.,
yep
That's
exactly
what
this
sound
like
A
to
the
A
to
the
L-I-Y-A-H,
give
it
up
2 times
Then
give
it
right
back,
don't
blow
my
high
Smoking
out,
pouring
up,
keep
that
lean
up
in
my
cup
All
my
car
got
leather
and
wood
in
my
hood
we
call
it
buck
Everybody
wanna
ball,
holla
at
broads
at
the
mall
If
he
up,
watch
him
fall,
I
can't
fuck
with
y'all
(Pussy
ass
ho
niggas)
I
can't
fuck
with
y'all
(Bitches
all
up
in
my
business)
I
can't
fuck
with
y'all
(Industry
of
counterfeits)
I
can't
fuck
with
y'all
Look
at
my
life
then
look
at
yours
Get
some
ambition,
why
you
bored?
Time'll
never
wait
on
no
man
Society
will
never
hold
your
hand
Niggas
like
the
gossip,
like
bitches
Got
me
thinking
you
don't
like
bitches
Wonder
what's
behind
them
Ray
Bans
Eyes
of
a
coward,
I
understand
Niggas
like
the
gossip,
like
bitches
Sip
Don
Perignon,
when
we
finish,
we
say
R.I.P.
Aaliyah,
R.I.P.,
yep,
R.I.P.
Aaliyah,
R.I.P.,
yep
That's
exactly
what
this
sound
like
But
never
will
I
ever
forget
Left
Eye
Roll
up,
put
a
ribbon
in
the
sky
And
a
button
on
your
lips,
don't
blow
my
high
Smoking
out,
pouring
up,
keep
that
lean
up
in
my
cup
All
my
car
got
leather
and
wood
in
my
hood
we
call
it
buck
Everybody
wanna
ball,
holla
at
broads
at
the
mall
If
he
up,
watch
him
fall,
I
can't
fuck
with
y'all
(Pussy
ass
ho
niggas)
I
can't
fuck
with
y'all
(Bitches
all
up
in
my
business)
I
can't
fuck
with
y'all
(Industry
of
counterfeits)
I
can't
fuck
with
y'all
Now
everybody
singing
this
shit
I'm
sending
him
a
four-page
letter,
And
I
enclosed
it
with
a
kiss
And
when
I
write
him
he
better
get
it
on
time
Look
at
my
life,
and
look
at
yours
Get
some
ambition
why
you
bored
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