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[MP3 + LYRICS] DMX ft. Griselda – Hood Blues

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DMX ft. Griselda – Hood Blues MP3 download

[Intro: DMX & Westside Gunn]
Rrr, come one, brr
What? What?
Brr
Ayo, ayo (Rr)

[Verse 1: Westside Gunn, Benny the Butcher & DMX]
I’m in the hood (Ah), eighty K house, million dollar net (Uh-huh, ah)
Shot off two hundred rounds, niggas know where we at (Brr, yeah)
My coke be the best, talk no steps (Uh-huh, ah)
Headshot took off, soulless (Boo-boo-boo-boo-boo-boo-boom)
Margiela kicks, Margiela sweats
I’m on the yard doin’ burpees, me, Drop and Fresh
Shooter lean low, he got a new body (Boo-boo-boo-boom)
Pray to Tesla X, you need a new body (Skrrt)
Fifty K, got my bitch a new body (Ah)
You internet niggas, y’all punani (Rrr)
The Ace of Spades simple, yay dealer
Pray five times a day, get on the wave, nigga
Baddest bitch you ever seen doin’ my braids nigga
The Tech echo like it got delays, nigga
Your shit ain’t shit, get out the way, nigga
New Yeezys, only me and Ye with ’em (Yeah, ah)
Pay attention (Uh), four on the baby come back then leave seven (Uh, uh)
Guarantee into the rec’ yard, I got the weapon (Ow, ah)
The Butcher comin’, nigga (Come on)

[Verse 2: Benny The Butcher]
Yo, uh
You know how I rock six figures off Zaza
Come and spend at my shop, I turn your hood to a hotspot
Every game I feel like I’m Dame without a stop watch
Shootin’ before the shot clock, Griselda got the top spot (Oh)
Locked down like a pawn shop, nigga (Yeah)
I’m thinkin’, “Why not?” (Uh-huh)
I gave my life to the game, but what do I got?
Father these niggas, how? I don’t even know my pops
This flip phone that I got don’t connect to the WiFi
Uh-huh, this new foreign shit with the wood on the door
Got me beefin’ with some niggas I could’ve put on
They make up lies and put ’em in songs
I pull up the lots, cop down the block hear me pull in the yard
Yeah, prayin’ with my dirty hands (With my dirty hands)
I did dirt and scam
I’m askin’ God “Do I deserve these bands?” (Do I deserve these bands?)
And we from murder land, eastside shit
Jeans purple brand, ridin’ in the GLE, the turtle van (Talk to ’em)

[Verse 3: Conway The Machine]
Ah, you throwin’ shots you better be precise (Ah-huh)
If I only squeeze it twice, that’s me bein’ polite (Okay)
We was in the trenches, nigga, four chicken wings and rice
The shooter fourteen, can’t read or right when he gon’ squeeze his pipe
We was tryna sell a key at night
‘Cause Nas said a G at night wasn’t good enough
And he was right (Talk to ’em)
They mad I’m rich, the same niggas that wouldn’t see my plight
The next plan, I’m ridin’ to the game with KD tonight, yeah
Machine bitch, every beat I body
My nigga on his way home, he just beat a body
Every time I leave the house, I got the steamer boy me (I got it on me)
My jacket a one of none, you never seen it probably (Woo)
I took some cheddar out the vault to pay the lawyer for my man
Rifle possession and felony assault (You good nigga)
Whippin’ up at Unc house, he keep the resi’ off the fork (Keep that)
I’m Kyrie hitting niggas with the hezy on the court, look (Woo)
I reached the point niggas never would’ve thought
‘Cause every time I drop somethin’ I don’t never get support
FN Mag shot, severin’ your corpse
You never could extort me
My heart cold as February 4th (Talk to ’em)
They hate to see me win, I’m not surprised
Nigga, I’m fuckin the bitches them bum bitches you fucks idolize
I’m in Harlem at Lighthouse eatin’ lobster fries
Vee & Shooter with me, I got mobster ties
Machine

[Verse 4: DMX]
I grew up at the dark side, apartheid
Where goin’ against the grain’ll get you kidnapped and hogtied
X the illest nigga, realest nigga
Never been scared, I’m a fearless nigga
Got that cannon that’ll remove your head and shoulders
Cats that play in the street get ran over
I’ma make you hand over everything you got
I’m not the average motherfucker
Do damage ’cause I’m a savage
Sometimes I can’t manage all the shit in my attic
I was promised the world but I got the dirt instead
It’s just life, I was bred to shed blood
For all my niggas that know me “Fuck you, nigga, What ”
Built for war, raw, this .44 will hit you through the door
You exist no more
I done punk’d more niggas than Ashton Kutcher
It’s Westside, Conway, X, Benny the Butcher, nigga

[Outro: DMX]
Get like you lay, nigga
Get how you fuckin’ lay, nigga
You know what the fuck it is
You know what the fuck it is, nigga
I ain’t fifty years old for nothing, aight
I’m not fifty years old for nothing (We active, nigga, we active)
Wish a nigga would
And I wish a nigga would

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