Luyện nghe bài hát Creepin Through Ya Hood

[Intro] (Alternating Paul Wall and Juelz Santana)

Juelz
Boy Paul
Yea, I mean I know there's a haters on yo side
Ya, ya, ya I know they over there on yo side too
Oh yeah, but you know we don't give a fuck about niggas
em

We give a fuck about you
We big guns, front, we'll pop you
We be through ya hood
Creepin through ya
We be mad slow, mug
Creepin through ya

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

[Paul
I got them windows tinted percent
Presidential limo
I can see you, but you see me
223 with clip
Them 50 gon set it off
a fire drill, bitch drop an roll
Gimme dat watch, Gimme dat
Empty pockets and pay the toll
I hang wit out on parole
Catch ya cut, run and
Evacuate, murder for
Kinda like ol from the wire
chop you up like garlic cloves
and ya ass like emmeril the chef
Take ya last breath, put on ya
But im at ya head boy, not ya chest
I pack the nine, I start to
Hit them 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 choppas roarin
I'll wear the heat just like
And leave ya family in mournin
I'm in the hood, like wig
I'm on the grind, on the
up like Yao Ming
In the low post, I'm on the box
We'll chop ya up like a screw
and have ya hollerin like the
but when my sidekick off
I talkin bout no T-mobile partna