Boondox, Anybody Killa - My Neighborhood lyrics
[Boondox, Anybody Killa - My Neighborhood lyrics]
My neighborhoods full of drama
Killas and thugs
Everybody’s representing by throwing 'em up
With a quick hi, hello, or beat down, baby
Even the cops know the block's
That it’s all time crazy (For real)
It’s alright 'cause it’s home sweet hood
Even though half of us is up to no good
You gotta love it when you born and raised
In place full of problems that you gotta face
I’m a native in the city
Of these Detroit streets
With a warrior mentality that won’t at ease
Tomahawk in one hand, blunt in the other
So I can just get high
And swing at motherfuckers (Bitch)
That’s how it is, I protect my shit
On my front porch serving up free fat lips
(Come up)
So come and see me if you down to hang
But when you visit in the Mitt
You can’t be actin' strange (For real)
My neighborhood ain’t what it’s all
Crack up to be so much drama
My neighborhood ain’t what it’s all
Crack up to be so much drama
My neighborhood ain’t what it’s all
Crack up to be so much drama
My neighborhood ain’t what it’s all
Crack up to be so much drama
H double O-D, C-O-V
In the double 7-O is where you finding me
With that front porch living got
That lawn chair high
But don’t mistake this lifestyle for
A reason to try 'Cause it’s a reason to die
We straight country folk bangin'
Them dirt road junkies know
Them country folk slangin'
Got that hard, that soft
That prescription for your mentals
My neighborhood homies got
Them backwoods credentials
Two four door Chevy's, one on blocks
Other dumped out
Bad ass kids leaving grown folks punked out
Trailer park cooking serving up that ass
City folks cars swerving when
Them hoes walk past
Because them cornbread booties
Got 'em hypnotized
Spending college tuition just to
Grip them thighs
My neighborhood to some might
Seem worlds away
But this is where I stay, Red clay, G-A
My neighborhood ain’t what it’s all
Crack up to be so much drama
My neighborhood ain’t what it’s all
Crack up to be so much drama
My neighborhood ain’t what it’s all
Crack up to be so much drama
My neighborhood ain’t what it’s all
Crack up to be so much drama
My neighborhood
Is on lock cause we like it that way
My neighborhood
Is a place where the gangstas play
My neighborhood
Can see right through you if you don’t belong
My neighborhood can defeat all the weak and
Build up the strong my neighborhood
Is on some shit like you ain’t never seen
My neighborhood
Red dirt roads full of thugs and fiends
My neighborhood
Country fucking miles ain’t never
Heard of no blocks my neighborhood
Is so far out, don’t bother calling no cop
My neighborhood ain’t what it’s all
Crack up to be so much drama
My neighborhood ain’t what it’s all
Crack up to be so much drama
My neighborhood ain’t what it’s all
Crack up to be so much drama
My neighborhood ain’t what it’s all
Crack up to be so much drama
Hey, , man
Quit playin' ball with them little-ass kids
Man you like twenty, and they what, eight?
Hey, man, fuck you hey it's about the youth
Hey, Mama, I'm home did you get my milk?
Milk? You ain't even say get no milk!
What the fuck? Man, Mama, you smoke too much
Killas and thugs
Everybody’s representing by throwing 'em up
With a quick hi, hello, or beat down, baby
Even the cops know the block's
That it’s all time crazy (For real)
It’s alright 'cause it’s home sweet hood
Even though half of us is up to no good
You gotta love it when you born and raised
In place full of problems that you gotta face
I’m a native in the city
Of these Detroit streets
With a warrior mentality that won’t at ease
Tomahawk in one hand, blunt in the other
So I can just get high
And swing at motherfuckers (Bitch)
That’s how it is, I protect my shit
On my front porch serving up free fat lips
(Come up)
So come and see me if you down to hang
But when you visit in the Mitt
You can’t be actin' strange (For real)
My neighborhood ain’t what it’s all
Crack up to be so much drama
My neighborhood ain’t what it’s all
Crack up to be so much drama
My neighborhood ain’t what it’s all
Crack up to be so much drama
My neighborhood ain’t what it’s all
Crack up to be so much drama
H double O-D, C-O-V
In the double 7-O is where you finding me
With that front porch living got
That lawn chair high
But don’t mistake this lifestyle for
A reason to try 'Cause it’s a reason to die
We straight country folk bangin'
Them dirt road junkies know
Them country folk slangin'
Got that hard, that soft
That prescription for your mentals
My neighborhood homies got
Them backwoods credentials
Two four door Chevy's, one on blocks
Other dumped out
Bad ass kids leaving grown folks punked out
Trailer park cooking serving up that ass
City folks cars swerving when
Them hoes walk past
Because them cornbread booties
Got 'em hypnotized
Spending college tuition just to
Grip them thighs
My neighborhood to some might
Seem worlds away
But this is where I stay, Red clay, G-A
My neighborhood ain’t what it’s all
Crack up to be so much drama
My neighborhood ain’t what it’s all
Crack up to be so much drama
My neighborhood ain’t what it’s all
Crack up to be so much drama
My neighborhood ain’t what it’s all
Crack up to be so much drama
My neighborhood
Is on lock cause we like it that way
My neighborhood
Is a place where the gangstas play
My neighborhood
Can see right through you if you don’t belong
My neighborhood can defeat all the weak and
Build up the strong my neighborhood
Is on some shit like you ain’t never seen
My neighborhood
Red dirt roads full of thugs and fiends
My neighborhood
Country fucking miles ain’t never
Heard of no blocks my neighborhood
Is so far out, don’t bother calling no cop
My neighborhood ain’t what it’s all
Crack up to be so much drama
My neighborhood ain’t what it’s all
Crack up to be so much drama
My neighborhood ain’t what it’s all
Crack up to be so much drama
My neighborhood ain’t what it’s all
Crack up to be so much drama
Hey, , man
Quit playin' ball with them little-ass kids
Man you like twenty, and they what, eight?
Hey, man, fuck you hey it's about the youth
Hey, Mama, I'm home did you get my milk?
Milk? You ain't even say get no milk!
What the fuck? Man, Mama, you smoke too much