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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:
[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
[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?
[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!)
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
[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]
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
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!!