Artist: DJ Khaled, T-Pain, Young Jeezy, Ludacris, Busta Rhymes, Big Boi, Lil Wayne, Fat Joe, Birdman, and Rick Ross Album: We the Best Song: I'm So Hood (Remix) Typed by: firstname.lastname@example.org [DJ Khaled] DJ Khaled, we the best! Who? We nigga, we the best! This the remix! The "I'm So Hood" remix! I'm makin mo', fees I'M SO HOOD, REMIXXX!! [Chorus: T-Pain] I'm so HOOD! Yeah, I wear my pants below my waist And I never dance when I'm in this place Cause you and yo' man is plannin to hate I'm so HOOD! And I got these golds up in my mouth If you get closer to my house Then you'll know what I'm talkin 'bout I'm out the HOOD! And if you feel me put your hands up HOO-OOD! My hood niggaz can you stand up I'm so HOOD! If you not from here you can walk it out And you not hood if you don't know what I'm talkin 'bout (I'm I'm I'm I'm I'm - SO, HOOD!) [DJ Khaled overlapping chorus] We always gon' be the best We run this, man! I make, hit records man! This is what I do! This the REMIX!! Put 'em up, put 'em up, put 'em up I gave you "We Takin' Over" (Yo Khaled) Yo, Jeezy (I got 'em, homie) You got me? WE RUN THIS, MAN, WE RUN THIS!! [Young Jeezy] I'm so H to the double-O D Walk around there's GOD-damn money on me Pockets so fat it don't make no sense (nope) Whips so clean, don't need no tints (nah!) Watch so bright, don't need no light You know where it were, I don't need no mic Niggaz like, "Young what you get for your show?" Tell 'em, "Same thing I used to get for the blow" Set 'em on the raw, nigga what I got to lose? (lose) Put 'em in the +Vans+, I ain't talkin bout the shoes (shoes) Do the speed limit, gotta watch out for the lights Pussy ass niggaz gotta watch out for the dykes Seventeen five, yeah nigga I said it! Seventeen five, yeah nigga I meant it! And when we do it bad, but I’m doin good I'm so, I'm so, I'm so muh'fuckin… (HOOD!) [Ludacris] I'm my hood…LUDA! Everybody come equipped wit bangers (BLAOW!), throwin up our middle fangers (WHAT) And you know I don't slip, so I gotta keep ten in the clip and one in the chambers Better be walkin with angels, and never take candy from strangers Through the stress and strife, had to earn my stripes like I played with the Bengals! (WOO!!) I'm in the zone homes, goin for the two point conversion +I'm So Hood+ that Ludacris shoulda been on the original version (yep!) But this is the remix, with the cheap tricks, hittin sweet licks And I cut the braids off but the waves and the fade'll make you sea-sick! (OH!!) And this is the way that we ball, (HEY!) and this is the way that we brawl So put a fist in the air if you care that united we stand and divided we fall (HEY!!) When the South's in the house, better watch yo mouth Cuz we on that hood shit, I'm hood rich Comin around yo' hood, BITCH! I swear I'm so… [Chorus 2 - T-Pain] HOOD! (REMIXXX!) And if you feel me put your hands up HOO-OOD! My hood niggaz can you stand up I'm so HOOD! If you not from here you can walk it out And you not hood if you don't know what I'm talkin 'bout (I'm I'm I'm I'm I'm - SO, HOOD!) [Busta Rhymes overlapping chorus] Khaled, they actin like we ain’t the kings of the streets and the gods of the hoods BUSSA-BUS, BITCHES!! [Busta Rhymes] See all I know is how to go and get my money g-'gan and again Top down let the money blow in the wind wit a bad bitch sittin in the passenger’s seat wit a doobie-wrapped head full of bobbie pins You know I keep that thang when I walk See the dialect different from the slang in my talk Baby still leavin, got a crackhead frontin Got another bad bitch that’s boost for the spark (HOOD!) I'm used to leavin the strip last Hustlin until the sun, comes up getting cash So much bread in all of my fall pocket It looks like a nigga got tits wit a ass! And from the DNA in my blood niggaz idolize me and try to do what I does And if that other nigga ain’t really from the hood You can easily die, take who that fake nigga was (HOOD!) And even though I spit a little rap Got niggaz in the hood try to sell the most crack Violator, I send a nigga to do it just to make you spend a lot of money just to get your shit BACK! Y'all niggaz know where I'm from And I rep it to the fullest til the day that I'm done So hood where we live if a nigga sold drugs and he rich Momma still PROUD OF HER SON! [Big Boi] Yeah, yeah.. Daddy Fat Sacks, so hood like a Cadillac Ornament on front of Avalanche Call an ambulance, to come and pick that ass up cause the nigga never had the chance They try to dance with the devil in a pale moonlight Advance on a level that they can’t do right Lay hands on a fella like a man in blue lights (WOOP WOOP!)….Do it twice! Big Boi, the B-I-G I'm nicer than MC on your top three You cock-y, I cock squeeze Bust them thangs, now you slop-py Speed it up, slow it down, then Screw it Don’t bite the flow, I got that fluid Run through the crew on some whole other new shit… Newness bitch, we do this! [Chorus 2] [Lil Wayne] Alright…WEEZY I'm so Hollygrove, New Orleans, (LIL'WEEZYANA!) Home sweet, Home De-pot, you will need a hammer It go, down like Frasier, I ain't talkin Kelsey Grammer I be, shittin on ya boys I need an Alka-Seltzer sammich, uh! Since I heard Plies, I done bought the Phantom back Went and got me a fifty-two, inch, Maybach (Delta…the Ghetto Kappa, ha ha!) I'm eatin like a big dog, I'm so full I'm so good, I'm so straight, you so fake I'm so real, I'm so hood [Fat Joe] Crack, Crack, Crack, Crack, Crack, Crack, Crack (I'M SO HOOD!) Yeah nigga, welcome to the Crackhouse I should own a McDonald's the way I bring the Macs out I'm from the hood where, every nigga lies Flip a couple grams, they tell you they bakin pies, shit! Still got my name carved in that Central Booking Gave that pussy a scar and told her 'good lookin' Youse a crack baby, (CRACK!) that means your momma paid me You can't even blame me, that's what the hood made me [Birdman] Martin Luther King (MLK) Calliope, Magnolia, Melphamine Gettin that money with the triple beam See ride of ?Clyde? your Josephine Saints is my team that’s what we breathe nigga That’s how we eat, get this money on the streets nigga VL my street, blood, five star G, blood Fly as a bird, got these Eagles on my seat, blood Then hit back where I stay, Third Ward we get that cake Thirteen is where I lay, shots out to MIA (Waddup Khaled?) [Rick Ross] Mo' Money, Mo' Problems, don't call me conceited (nope) Just call me the boss, always got what you needed MIA oh so hot, but my neck got the fever If you sneeze you get shot, gun play makin believers I just bought me a ranch, watch the hundreds stack No those ain’t Rolex diamonds, (NO!!) WHAT YOU DONE TO THAT?? You fools fugazi, my fools from Haiti I moves 'em daily, IT'S A MOVIE, BABY!! HOOD!!!