[Intro: Sheek Louch] Where my hood at? Where them red and blue flags, where that good at? Somebody tell them hood rats to come up front And let the club know I'ma smoke my blunt [Styles P] (Ghost!) Money green, weed green, hood black, heart black And never let 'em see where you live, where you park at Never let 'em know how you get it just squash that Never let the beef ride long, go squash that You can shoot it out, or go and peace it up If we was in jail I would make you give your sneakers up Cause I'm a loyalist, and I spray sh** The 44 make n***as look like crawfish Cause you seafood, so go on sleep with 'em I don't trust no n***as, I don't eat with 'em Matter fact, I'ma keep it street with 'em I don't like his style, I don't even speak with him I keep it G from the get-go Real go-getter, and I let my sh** blow You don't wanna get your sh** broke I got the hawk, you don't wanna get your sh** broke [Chorus: Sheek Louch] Where my hood at? Where them red and blue flags, where that good at? Where them vanillas? Where that sticky? Where my right hand man with the blicky? Somebody tell them hood rats to come up front And let the club know I'ma smoke my blunt b**h!! This ain't Gucci, this ain't Prada This street sh** I'm f**in with them n***as say "nada" [Sheek Louch] Hey yo it's never gon' be another Shocked the world with the half face gorilla cover Clip on top of each other, now e'rybody wanna listen to the G Funny I'm on the plane watchin "Get Him to the Greek" Twenty thousand when I land just to listen when I speak Bully, he in my will somewhere, he like to eat "I Get High," high like P's song (AYYYYY!) That's why my shades on, used to be in love with Nia Long Donny ain't around now I'll talk 'bout Viet Cong That's means more b**hes more haters on my song But I don't go back and forth, me no ping-pong Donny at your door like Avon, DING-DONG! Yeah, me and my E hawk Pop them things off on your block then later we pop klikko Hah! Amazing ain't it? If you can paint a bigger picture, well go 'head and pain it Geyeah [Chorus] [Styles P] Geyeah, bang like them white boys in mosh pits Hach-too spit on your favorite rapper, he's not sh** ... My catalogue is colossus Blunt for the prelude, one for the process Perform with a swarm of fully loaded objects Make it clearer than Podus ring I'm reachin for my phone cause I hear it before it ring I'm reachin for my gun cause I hear it before it ring ... In the hood, I'm a muse Phantom that's verbal, demolition in the booth Slicker than the oil that you get at the ma**euse Chrome thing with the conehead in the goose Addin in the Coupe, subtractin what I shoot Get in with a axe and some matches and a noose You have no idea, on the havoc I produce 'til it's way too late, the brain matter's on your shoes [Chorus] [Outro: Sheek] Geyeah