- Song Name: Take tha Hood Back
- Artist Name: UGK
- Album: Underground Kingz
- Songwriters: Andrew Harr, Avery Stevenson, Bernard Freeman, Chad Butler, Eric Johnson, George Hill, Jermaine Jackson, Stayve Thomas
- Release Date: 2007.08.07
LYRICS FOR "Take tha Hood Back"
Yeah nigga
You niggaz got s*** all crossed-up
Niggaz got the game real twisted
You niggaz is really hustlin' wrong
You niggaz got your grind wrong
I gotta watch you hoe-ass niggaz
It's time for the teacher
To sit back in the front of the class
Right over the blackboard
And teach you hoe-ass niggaz the rules
'Cause ain't nobody showin' you niggaz
How to get money the right way
If you gon' get money
'Cause you gon' f*** everybody money up on the real
Now all my hustlers
A lot of niggaz hustlin' backwards
There's some niggaz playin' dirty pool
They crossin' up the Trill and man
M************ need to be reprimanded and straight jacked
These boys is givin' the wrong niggaz out here respect
Break ya neck to f*** wit a nigga that compromise yo' hood
Yo' doin' s*** you know it cool until the good
Got kids movin' work
Using youngsters
Matter 'fact
Breakin' bread with certified snitches
You niggaz givin' these canaries all these passes
F*** gettin' dough wit a snitch
I'm teachin' classes
These hoe-ass niggaz don't want none of Bun
I'm takin' the hood back
Niggaz gettin' knocked goin' fed and six months ya back?
Off with his head
Damn
Now you're home
You liar
Hell naw
We in the club like it's good
Click clack
I'm a G
Got yo' b**** lookin' mad while them Fingaz so full
I drank hard while you niggaz drank Bull
But the boy like Diddy fed
And I was taught to hold my own
Picture spider lock ya down
Hell yeah
Come through sunny side and leave yo' house flat
Yeah
F*** a cell phones
It's young low Frazier
And every shot hit
Some killa talk
Middlefingaz' a ridah
And I put that on Pat
Young low b****
We takin' the hood back
Niggaz gettin' knocked goin' fed and six months ya back?
Off with his head
Damn
Now you're home
You liar
Hell naw
We in the club like it's good
Click clack
A thousand-eight grams
You smart wit it
From out here in these trenches
Ain't no fuckn' love or second chance
Small-time offender
Speak not
Make 'em think it's cool
The game ain't the same at all
Nigga got the less time 'cause he came wit it first
See I disperse to dope
No more Glock s***
I gets my paper
Cold blooded killas
I'm alert
I show you how to stop that b****
Get ig'nant wit this choppa b****
Tomorrow ain't promised
We know your spot
Niggaz gettin' knocked goin' fed and six months ya back?
Off with his head
Damn
Now you're home
You liar
Hell naw
We in the club like it's good
Click clack
I'm takin' back the streets
On parole but I'm cold wit the heat
Candy coated rock baller
B****** tryna steal my dick
There's a lotta niggaz rappin'
I don't see none of the s*** that you name
Where the car at? Where the bread at?
Where the girl you say that got that 'Five head' at?
Where the rocks at? Where the Glocks at?
In yo' mind and on the mic
That's my lifestyle you rappin' 'bout
I'm havin' everythin' you pussy niggaz yappin' 'bout
When you see some cocaine
You say you got it
He gotta call his connect and s***
And he ain't got you co-na-vict nigga
Niggaz gettin' knocked goin' fed and six months ya back?
Off with his head
Damn
Now you're home
You liar
Hell naw
We in the club like it's good
Click clack
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