Paroles Out the hood T-Pain

Out the hood

[feat. Brisco & Young Cash]

[Verse 1: T-Pain]
Yo (yo)
He got a malfunction
I might show up at his crib or maybe his job and have the whole staff jump in
Waiting on him at the studio he caught me in
I cut the lights off murder acres ass and stab sumthing
Even if he grab sumthing the only thing he aim at is a sidekick
That nigga ain't goin blast nothing
We make movies dawg, so check ya credits
If I got a situation then the whole fuckin cast coming
So the chances of me getting paid is half and half
Just cause I dropped out of school don't mean I'm bad at math
I get money dawg, what do you get?
Soon as you figure that out I'm on some new shit
Nigga I do this in the bed with two tricks
Got a abracadabra and plus a Kalamazoo bitch
Cause I don't like not eating when I ought to be
But'chu force my hunger like Aqua Teen

[Hook x2: Young Cash]
Now you can take the nigga out the hood
But not the hood out the nigga, we still squeeze triggers
We might make us all good
But we still run with killers, so get'cha cap pilled up

[Verse 2: Brisco]
I do this shit for bald-head posture, and stink foot Wanda
Brisco rock, call em no condom
And I don't sell white girl, sitting mo Ronda
I'm posted at the trap with the show then a Honda
Hopolocka poe boy, see I was ghetto bread
I'm Nappy Boy ya couldn't get a comb through my nappy head
Pain I'm living on the edge, I'm additive
The big booty hole's cushion Chevrolet [?]
And I'm infatuated with getting keys off
I like my sticks well with the satellite peeled off
And all my dawgs got choppas, you know
Yellow tape, helicopters, you know
Black bags heard they came into his black ass
No description, all they saw was black mask
And all I know is dealers and extortionist
So come up off my portion bitch

[Hook x2: Young Cash]

[Verse 3:]
M.O.E. yeah that's still my main spoken
In the streets flex my muscle like I'm Hulk Hogan
I'm in the kitchen by the stove come and let me train ya
After the cocoa I'm gone I move middle fingers
Cheah, and that's bird for you dumb niggas
Enough bricks to build a house on you bump niggas
My number thirty and it's been like there for awhile
I used to play with the tees like a pedophile
But shit changed up, crackers brought my name up
Snitchin ass niggas yeah they done fucked the game up
Shit different I used to hustle to make plenty green
Now the G side on the block in some skinny jeans
You niggas rookies, wet behind the earlobes
You niggas pussies soft like a bad applehoe
Speaking of South Beach I just pulled out the dump
I'm on ocean with a choppa in the fuckin trunk

[Hook x2]