Pressa - Hood Trophy lyrics

Mama used to beat me with my trophy
My teacher used to chase
Me through the hallway
My nigga, he done snaked me for my 38
I put my dawg on
He went and made a hundred K
I'm from the hood, I'm so hood
That's the hood in me
Never watched my dawg starve
That's the good in me
Real nigga, know my Jordans 1 through 23
Name a nigga in my city that can shit on me

I got a Glock 30 filled with zombies
I'm like a new pair of Loubs, niggas want me
I'm in some Off White, niggas wanna off me
Pressa make the hood look like palm trees
First and furthermore
Let's get this clear like Avianne
Pull up on his block
We shmurda shit just like we Bobby
This rap shit just ain't easy
For this shit you need a body
Baby girl got freckles on her face
Look like a cookie
And why not? Just go blow some bands
Don't wear no Reebok never catch me in the
Hood rockin' fake designer
Never catch me hangin' on the
Block without my handgun
He ain't killed nobody
But he claim he a gangsta
My niggas play your block, it's on repeat
My dawg underground like it's P3
Uzi shout me out on the TV
I keep sayin' I'ma blow
They won't believe me
My shooters, my shooters, they come in varies
These niggas, they bitches
They scared of police
The Feds hate a nigga, they stole my jewelry
Wassi a sav, he legendary
It's scary, I bet he in this room
He prolly hear me
Pressa lock the city like a Dudley
My niggas swing around like a monkey
I got a glizzy, rockin' in my Monclers
Traphouse whippin' dope and I done
Broke my wrist bone
And ceelo's only time a nigga gamble
These niggas hesitate, they start to fiddle
Where I'm from, homicides go by the triple

Mama used to beat me with my trophy
My teacher used to chase
Me through the hallway
My nigga, he done snaked me for my 38
I put my dawg on
He went and made a hundred K
I'm from the hood, I'm so hood
That's the hood in me
Never watched my dawg starve
That's the good in me
Real nigga, know my Jordans 1 through 23
Name a nigga in my city that can shit on me

Real nigga, never stole out my mom's purse
Grade school, mama used to tuck my collar
Loyalty's a price, I can't rob her
I went from baller to a baller
I went from ball court to a bando
So much hand transactions, I got handles
It's fucked up how I made money on Granville
I'll never leave my dawg, yeah
For dead like a weirdo
'Cause niggas nowadays, they so fake, man
Where I'm from
We take your gun if you're a wasteman
And all that sit-at-home shit
Never rate that
I hit the road and got dirty on my way back
Niggas sit at home playin' video games
I learned to go and get it, by a minimum wage
My nigga's on your block
He needs to relocate
Shoot a nigga in his face
Do it the Driftwood way

Yeah, you know how we rock
Do it the drifter way, shit
Free my niggas
RIP my niggas and shout all my bros