Luyện nghe bài hát Creepin Through Ya Hood

[Intro] (Alternating Paul Wall and Juelz Santana)

Juelz
Boy Wall
Yea, I mean I know there's a lotta on yo side
Ya, ya, ya I know they over there on yo side too
Oh yeah, but you know we give a fuck about them niggas
em

We don't give a fuck you
We tote big guns, front, pop you
We be through ya hood
Creepin ya hood
We be mad slow, mug
Creepin through ya

Santana]
I'm down and I'm dirty with
I'm to get dirty, ya bitch
Aw man, aw damn, the pound is just my hip
Fuck with me I'll show ya how them pounds and get flipped
around clown, you'll get found in the dirtiest ditch
He like, "Y'all don't give a about who?" (Bout who)
I'm like, "We don't a fuck about you." (Bout you)
Hat low to the
Lean smokin a blunt
A! See that button? Hit that, in the trunk
Nope coke in the trunk, both in the trunk
Up, that gun is on my hip too, I be hopin you
You don't want my niggas through ya hood
You don't want my niggas through ya wood
You wanna see that pistol in ya face
Homeboy, you don't want my niggas creepin with ya goods
So play like that (don't)
Don't act like (don't)
If you ain't that, you know,

[Paul
I got them windows tinted five
Presidential tint
I can see you, but you see me
223 with clip
Them 50 gon set it off
It's a fire drill, drop an roll
Gimme dat watch, dat chain
Empty them and pay the toll
I wit killers out on parole
ya cut, run and hide
Evacuate, for hire
like ol barb from the wire
We'll chop you up garlic cloves
and ya ass like emmeril the chef
Take ya breath, put on ya vest
But im at ya head boy, not ya chest
I pack the nine, I start to
Hit legs and crease ya up
Then I hit the wit a bad bitch
they'll the knob and piece me up
And you wake up in the mornin
To the sounds of them roarin
I'll wear the heat just Alonzo
And ya whole family in mournin
I'm in the hood, like wig
I'm on the grind, on the
Posted up like Yao
In the low post, I'm on the box
We'll chop ya up like a tape
and have ya like the opera
but when my sidekick off
I talkin bout no T-mobile partna