The game - Dem boyz

Bring it back, bring it back, bring it back (back, back)

Yeah, yeah yeah, ay
What it is Block?
Boyz N Da Hood
Let's ride, nigga

Ay, ain't no introduction needed
Every nigga in Atlanta know
You try me when you see me nigga
I'ma spit ya cantaloupe
Trigga' happy and in a hurry to let them hammers go
You actin' like you sick in the head, I got the antidote
I'm comin' with a question most niggas ain't got the answer fo'
I'm cool as a fan but I'll kill a nigga like cancer tho'
Dem Boyz N Da Hood keep .44's and Calico's
454's under the hood of they Supersports
You know it's goin' down when they lights low and they movin' slow
They windows way down, layin' down, what they shootin' fo'
T.I.P., the West side Warrior
So you should know that gunfights under the street lights
I'm used to those

It's dem Boyz N Da Hood, sell anything for profit
Five in the mornin' on the corner clockin'
Yeah we wrong but dare a nigga try to stop it
And you can get anywhere, anybody
Dem boys got work, dem boys got yay
Dem boys got purp, dem boys got haze
Dem boys got Glocks, dem boys got K's
Dem boys got blocks, dem boys gettin' paid

Big D, Big D
Edge Hang, Edge Hang
Big D, Big D
Swat Dawg, Swat Dawg
Big D, Big D
Edge Hang, Edge Hang
Big D, Big D
Zone 3, Zone 3


I'm on the corner with killa's holdin' onto dem pistols
The only nigga dat [?] and crackin' dem nickles
I'm up on the block and I'm posted like Moses Malone
Fifty a pop, my numbers and fifty is on
I'm still in the spot where most of these [?] get blown
Most of my people is gone, most of my life I did wrong
I'm in the gutta' hoe where most of my partna's alone
All of dem live by the streets, and most of dem die by the chrome

Ay give the little nigga his ball back

Game Boyz, put a clip in a .45, cock back
Jeezy show a nigga where to pop at
All the bullshit niggas is talkin', better stop that
[?] where Block at, ain't kiddin', got a six-four, drop that
Test drove a new Bentley and cop that
I'll show you where the rock at
Show you where Eazy E and Dr. Dre get shop at
Same place Ronnie King got beat by the cops at;
That was '92, when I stashed the loot from Woopty Woop
And the same exact place Biggie Smalls got popped at
Unsolved by the boys in blue
Hundred niggas outside
Nobody know who, but I do
L.A.P.D. that's on me, matter fact I put that on Piru
I'ma die too, for the shit I said, if I was the Prez
Probably would have lied too
But let me get off that and get back to rap
Give all my hood niggas somethin' new to ride to
I'ma keep it real daog, when a guy wanna live was dead
Homie I'd cry too, probably [?] and it's a Goddamn shame
We ain't know we was 'bout to be left out too
What about you?
How the fuck did you feel when you heard Jam Master Jay got killed
Or when Soulja Slim got capped
Feel my pain and do the nolia clap
You from N.Y. nigga show respect
You from L.A. take the rag out ya pocket and show 'em that
Gang bangin' and gold is back; me and T.I. holdin' the track

Yeah man, this ya boy Block, man
Atlanta's bad boy, Mr. Eastside himself
A to the K, Jose Williams Jr
Yeah, ride through [?] with my hat bent to the left
The Eastside Chevy rida
Ay yo Puff, you know I had do it

Boyz N Da Hood, number one

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