Crooked I - Boyz N Da Hood lyrics

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Crooked I - Boyz N Da Hood lyrics

[Verse 1: Crooked I] Ladies and gentlemen, gentlemen and ladies Hop in the fo' with me, let's ride through the 80s I was a baby, the block was hotter than Hades I was mad doggin' n***as like rottweilers with rabies Living in the hood far from Beverly Hills Mama smoking on a joint playing Stephanie Mills My cousin Doc hopping out his '87 Deville He said remember real gangstas do whatever we feel Ya hear me? Picture a kid raised by that logic As he pa**ed I noticed that pistol in his back pocket I was bred to slang weed sacks to stack profit Wnen I shoulda been more into sports like Zack Crockett I'm watching gangstas swallow whole bottles of brew Wanted to be just like the only role models I knew You could get in with the red, you could go follow the blue Let the streets raise your child is what no father should do But I didn't have one so I jumped in the back seat They gave me that goon game, they taught me to pack heat They taught me to cook crack, they taught me to mack freaks They taught me to enemies in the past like last week Not a one of them who wasn't high, wasn't high Levis creased up with the bu*ton fly, bu*ton fly n***as throw the East up, it was thug or die, thug or die So if you n***as G'ed up what the f** am I, f** am I? I was just a young youth who was watching the murder show Using curl activator and looking like Kurtis Blow At that young tender age most never heard of blow But my brother be serving, I seen him chop a bird or so With the purple convertible fo' parked in the front Said this New York sh**, Crooked, sparked him a blunt Back then n***as was f**ing with Zig Zag papers Blowing on homegrown like six damn acres Started jacking dealers, them Slim Fast capers That's when you lose weight if your snitch-a** neighbors Want to take a bite out of crime, that neighborhood watch We give 'em nine at a time while the neighborhood watch Crooked love the game them thugs taught 'em Yeah black croker sacks with the gun bottom Mama, every color Lottos, your son got 'em '38 snub nose, give me one problem If you was there in the 80s than you know what I mean Crack fiends in the alley, Billy Jean on the screen Punk-a** crash unit trying to lean on your team Wall banging, roll call, let 'em see the regime Them ringleaders needed us little n***as, we was the key to the scheme Get them nine millimeters to scream They put a battery in our back, man them heaters are seen We was lost, sleepwalking not believing in dreams The 90s came, woke us up, gave us knowledge of self This self-educated n***a had to college hisself Polished off every book then I swallowed the shelf Lifted moms 'cause my father never bothered to help Man I thank God I survived the storm A cop looked in my eyes, asked was I reformed I asked him, do you wear the hat to hide your horns? Why lie, you been hating me since I was born In your eyesight I do drive-bys every night So f** it, I stay thuggin', it's easy as Eric Wright Man I'm cruising through the beach in my Benzo Ice heavy on my neck while I'm spittin' at hoes I went to King Park to get the scoop I saw Big C Style in a Bentley Coupe A Range pulls up, who could it be My n***a Sauce he coming from the 103 He rolled down his window and he said to me It's all about that motherf**in' C.O.B