A Ap Ferg Hood Tales Lyrics
Hood Tales by A$AP Ferg
[Intro: Dj Drama]
Let's get it right
New niggas is coming to eat up all the food
(Gangsta Grillz!)
Man they hungry
It's an appetite for destruction out here
The mob is equipped with full-armed artillery
What ya gon' do?
(DJ Drama, fuck these niggas up!)
[Verse 1]
I was born in Harlem where them things pop
At the block parties, niggas had to run
And they caught the motherfuckers on the same block
And they all at the war with the gun
R.I.P. Lil Na , Sharon, why they kill ya son?
Damn it, if I could've did it, I'mma hit 'em with the ton
Clit-a-dick, little-dick, feeling shit, hot in you lungs
Turn you bitch niggas to a couple nuns (lay 'em down)
I came in the store and saw the whole thing
He said, I hope that you not one of them
Then I run around the corner, got the OG's
I told 'em, We got jumped by a couple punks
I swear to God, these niggas softer than the Brady Bunch
They gon' get it, man, this shit been goin' for a couple months
Then turn around the corner, seen a crowd looking stunned
With the all shaking on the floor, not saying nothin'
[Hook]
This just where we from
We all dyin' some day
At a picnic having fun
Probably dyin' by the gun
This just where we from
We prayin' every Sunday
When the killas gonna come
She about to lose her son, son
[Verse 2]
Let me D bop
Spanish nigga, everybody thought he black (From the block)
Used to wear a tank top with a fresh fade
OJ, kinda fat, (OJ give low)
Face stay greasy pollo all you eatin'
Thug nigga with the Cuban on the neck
Always carried a tech, Dominicano
Trappin' the bando, Orlando, he was Diablo in the flesh
Dimelo got into a little mess with D Bach
And he shot up the block with the Desert
'Bout to leave him messy but the bullets hit the belly
You could call me Hollywood, not "the hood Tyler Perry"
Niggas making movies, more niggas getting buried
Niggas died, Desert, but this shit ain't really necessary
Caught up in the life, he got rich and got blurry
He took his own life and the one that he married, Ferg
[Hook]
This just where we from
We all dyin' some day
At a picnic having fun
Probably dyin' by the gun
This just where we from
We prayin' every Sunday
When the killas gonna come
She about to lose her son, son
This just where we from
We all dyin' some day
At a picnic having fun
Probably dyin' by the gun
This just where we from
We prayin' every Sunday
When the killas gonna come
She about to lose her son, son
Let's get it right
New niggas is coming to eat up all the food
(Gangsta Grillz!)
Man they hungry
It's an appetite for destruction out here
The mob is equipped with full-armed artillery
What ya gon' do?
(DJ Drama, fuck these niggas up!)
[Verse 1]
I was born in Harlem where them things pop
At the block parties, niggas had to run
And they caught the motherfuckers on the same block
And they all at the war with the gun
R.I.P. Lil Na , Sharon, why they kill ya son?
Damn it, if I could've did it, I'mma hit 'em with the ton
Clit-a-dick, little-dick, feeling shit, hot in you lungs
Turn you bitch niggas to a couple nuns (lay 'em down)
I came in the store and saw the whole thing
He said, I hope that you not one of them
Then I run around the corner, got the OG's
I told 'em, We got jumped by a couple punks
I swear to God, these niggas softer than the Brady Bunch
They gon' get it, man, this shit been goin' for a couple months
Then turn around the corner, seen a crowd looking stunned
With the all shaking on the floor, not saying nothin'
[Hook]
This just where we from
We all dyin' some day
At a picnic having fun
Probably dyin' by the gun
This just where we from
We prayin' every Sunday
When the killas gonna come
She about to lose her son, son
[Verse 2]
Let me D bop
Spanish nigga, everybody thought he black (From the block)
Used to wear a tank top with a fresh fade
OJ, kinda fat, (OJ give low)
Face stay greasy pollo all you eatin'
Thug nigga with the Cuban on the neck
Always carried a tech, Dominicano
Trappin' the bando, Orlando, he was Diablo in the flesh
Dimelo got into a little mess with D Bach
And he shot up the block with the Desert
'Bout to leave him messy but the bullets hit the belly
You could call me Hollywood, not "the hood Tyler Perry"
Niggas making movies, more niggas getting buried
Niggas died, Desert, but this shit ain't really necessary
Caught up in the life, he got rich and got blurry
He took his own life and the one that he married, Ferg
[Hook]
This just where we from
We all dyin' some day
At a picnic having fun
Probably dyin' by the gun
This just where we from
We prayin' every Sunday
When the killas gonna come
She about to lose her son, son
This just where we from
We all dyin' some day
At a picnic having fun
Probably dyin' by the gun
This just where we from
We prayin' every Sunday
When the killas gonna come
She about to lose her son, son