Hoodrich Pablo Juan Hood Lyrics
Hood by Hoodrich Pablo Juan
[Intro: Baby Uiie]
Doubled with the Perc, I stayed down
They wrestling in the trap, I'm playing like Draymond
I had them bitches at the same time
Feed my Crips that's on my main line
The thing that's sparkling this Rollie
Wrist drip, it's this Rolex
Poppin' bitches swear they know me
I got the hood on my shoulders
[Chorus: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
Pulled up with bricks in the hood
I stayed down and got rich in the hood
Bad bitch, pussy good
Got a shell case for the .38 with the wood
I should hit me a jugg, I'm good
Put a whole 3.5 in a Backwoods
I don't fuck with these niggas, they Hollywood
Cum in that bitch and I'm dabbing like Robin Hood
Getting that money, fucking these bitches
Fuck the police, we don't fuck with no snitches
Stayed down, went from the rags to the riches
Me and Baby Uiie run up the digits
Ooh, let me stop for a minute
Fuck that bullshit, we got Glocks with extensions
Real niggas, we don't beef over mentions
We still in the hood, in the trenches
[Verse 1: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
Came from the hood, I was raised in the concrete
Getting money, I ain't got time to sleep
Jumped out the Porsche and landed on my feet
Back then, I ain't know nothing 'bout a beat
I ain't know nothing 'bout rap
They ain't know nothing 'bout me
Came from the belly of the beast
You ain't never seen a nigga like me
I'm trapping all day, fuck the police, we gotta get it
Real street nigga riding 'round with it
Got a trap house filled up with bricks and the pounds in it
Shipping the pack like I pitch on the mound with it
Givenchy with the stars, couldn't walk a mile in it
I don't need money counters or accountant
Got fifty-thousand, money stacked up like mountains
I'm drinking lean like it comes out of fountains
We don't know how to sit on no couches
Still in the hood with the bags and the ounces
I ain't worried 'bout no nigga, I keep counting
I just drop off the pack and I'm rerouting
Pour a 4 in the Faygo, a 5 in the red Woods
African diamonds cost a lot of canned goods
Sending twenty to my mansion in Ellenwood
Cookies, you know them ain't no edibles
[Chorus: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
Pulled up with bricks in the hood
I stayed down and got rich in the hood
Bad bitch, pussy good
Got a shell case for the .38 with the wood
I should hit me a jugg, I'm good
Put a whole 3.5 in a Backwoods
I don't fuck with these niggas, they Hollywood
Cum in that bitch and I'm dabbing like Robin Hood
Getting that money, fucking these bitches
Fuck the police, we don't fuck with no snitches
Stayed down, went from the rags to the riches
Me and Baby Uiie run up the digits
Ooh, let me stop for a minute
Fuck that bullshit, we got Glocks with extensions
Real niggas, we don't beef over mentions
We still in the hood, in the trenches
[Verse 2: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
Just found a bitch on the "Explore" page
Bust a pint on the Tech, pour up four ways
Fresh everyday, I got cake like my birthday
They like my swag and my lingo, my wordplay
I caught a skurt on a Thursday
I come from the PJ the worst way
I just want the PJ the private way
I don't give these bitches the time of day
I'm eating Ruth's Chris, the filet
I'm eating cookies, they come from the Bay
Foreign whip when I touch down in the A
Counting money, please stay out the way
Rock designer, they wanna know what I pay
Rock a gold chain like I just won first place
My niggas strapped up with dirty K's
We got the gas like the Circle K
Rocking Off-White with my Kanye's
Chains on like a runaway
Strapped the fuck up, nigga, ready for gun play
Church's Chickens on a Sunday
I'm smoking that wonder brick, cookie candyland
Counting up the bands, I know I can
Hang in the hood with a money flag
Got a bookbag full of country bands
I'm in the hood, they thought I wouldn't make it
Now I'm shopping all the way out in Vegas
I'm rich, these bitches trying to have my baby
Copped the Audi and the brand new Mercedes
I made the money, never made me
Got chains on like a slave
I rock designer all day
Fuck you, gotta pay me
[Chorus: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
Pulled up with bricks in the hood
I stayed down and got rich in the hood
Bad bitch, pussy good
Got a shell case for the .38 with the wood
I should hit me a jugg, I'm good
Put a whole 3.5 in a Backwoods
I don't fuck with these niggas, they Hollywood
Cum in that bitch and I'm dabbing like Robin Hood
Getting that money, fucking these bitches
Fuck the police, we don't fuck with no snitches
Stayed down, went from the rags to the riches
Me and Baby Uiie run up the digits
Ooh, let me stop for a minute
Fuck that bullshit, we got Glocks with extensions
Real niggas, we don't beef over mentions
We still in the hood, in the trenches
Doubled with the Perc, I stayed down
They wrestling in the trap, I'm playing like Draymond
I had them bitches at the same time
Feed my Crips that's on my main line
The thing that's sparkling this Rollie
Wrist drip, it's this Rolex
Poppin' bitches swear they know me
I got the hood on my shoulders
[Chorus: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
Pulled up with bricks in the hood
I stayed down and got rich in the hood
Bad bitch, pussy good
Got a shell case for the .38 with the wood
I should hit me a jugg, I'm good
Put a whole 3.5 in a Backwoods
I don't fuck with these niggas, they Hollywood
Cum in that bitch and I'm dabbing like Robin Hood
Getting that money, fucking these bitches
Fuck the police, we don't fuck with no snitches
Stayed down, went from the rags to the riches
Me and Baby Uiie run up the digits
Ooh, let me stop for a minute
Fuck that bullshit, we got Glocks with extensions
Real niggas, we don't beef over mentions
We still in the hood, in the trenches
[Verse 1: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
Came from the hood, I was raised in the concrete
Getting money, I ain't got time to sleep
Jumped out the Porsche and landed on my feet
Back then, I ain't know nothing 'bout a beat
I ain't know nothing 'bout rap
They ain't know nothing 'bout me
Came from the belly of the beast
You ain't never seen a nigga like me
I'm trapping all day, fuck the police, we gotta get it
Real street nigga riding 'round with it
Got a trap house filled up with bricks and the pounds in it
Shipping the pack like I pitch on the mound with it
Givenchy with the stars, couldn't walk a mile in it
I don't need money counters or accountant
Got fifty-thousand, money stacked up like mountains
I'm drinking lean like it comes out of fountains
We don't know how to sit on no couches
Still in the hood with the bags and the ounces
I ain't worried 'bout no nigga, I keep counting
I just drop off the pack and I'm rerouting
Pour a 4 in the Faygo, a 5 in the red Woods
African diamonds cost a lot of canned goods
Sending twenty to my mansion in Ellenwood
Cookies, you know them ain't no edibles
[Chorus: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
Pulled up with bricks in the hood
I stayed down and got rich in the hood
Bad bitch, pussy good
Got a shell case for the .38 with the wood
I should hit me a jugg, I'm good
Put a whole 3.5 in a Backwoods
I don't fuck with these niggas, they Hollywood
Cum in that bitch and I'm dabbing like Robin Hood
Getting that money, fucking these bitches
Fuck the police, we don't fuck with no snitches
Stayed down, went from the rags to the riches
Me and Baby Uiie run up the digits
Ooh, let me stop for a minute
Fuck that bullshit, we got Glocks with extensions
Real niggas, we don't beef over mentions
We still in the hood, in the trenches
[Verse 2: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
Just found a bitch on the "Explore" page
Bust a pint on the Tech, pour up four ways
Fresh everyday, I got cake like my birthday
They like my swag and my lingo, my wordplay
I caught a skurt on a Thursday
I come from the PJ the worst way
I just want the PJ the private way
I don't give these bitches the time of day
I'm eating Ruth's Chris, the filet
I'm eating cookies, they come from the Bay
Foreign whip when I touch down in the A
Counting money, please stay out the way
Rock designer, they wanna know what I pay
Rock a gold chain like I just won first place
My niggas strapped up with dirty K's
We got the gas like the Circle K
Rocking Off-White with my Kanye's
Chains on like a runaway
Strapped the fuck up, nigga, ready for gun play
Church's Chickens on a Sunday
I'm smoking that wonder brick, cookie candyland
Counting up the bands, I know I can
Hang in the hood with a money flag
Got a bookbag full of country bands
I'm in the hood, they thought I wouldn't make it
Now I'm shopping all the way out in Vegas
I'm rich, these bitches trying to have my baby
Copped the Audi and the brand new Mercedes
I made the money, never made me
Got chains on like a slave
I rock designer all day
Fuck you, gotta pay me
[Chorus: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
Pulled up with bricks in the hood
I stayed down and got rich in the hood
Bad bitch, pussy good
Got a shell case for the .38 with the wood
I should hit me a jugg, I'm good
Put a whole 3.5 in a Backwoods
I don't fuck with these niggas, they Hollywood
Cum in that bitch and I'm dabbing like Robin Hood
Getting that money, fucking these bitches
Fuck the police, we don't fuck with no snitches
Stayed down, went from the rags to the riches
Me and Baby Uiie run up the digits
Ooh, let me stop for a minute
Fuck that bullshit, we got Glocks with extensions
Real niggas, we don't beef over mentions
We still in the hood, in the trenches