Artist: Inspectah Deck
Album:  The Resident Patient 2
Song:   Hood
Typed by: pneumatic

[Intro: Inspectah Deck]
Yeah man
I'm just thinkin back to those good ol' times yo
Back in the days, Free lunch
Summer jobs, Wheelie'n the block, Yaknowhatimsayin
When we wasn't runnin from the cops duckin them shots
It's real out here

[Inspectah Deck]
Berettas and glocks, Consecutive shots, Forever it pops
Catch a double life just for reppin the block
Bredrin or not, The C.R.E.A.M. cause metal to pop
When the smoke clears fake niggas settin up shop
I know murderers who blew trial and came home King
Some of yall catch a weed charge and start to sing
Criminal life, Sinister trife, Few where built for
This section of land young blood was spilt for
Not to mention the twenty beans he killed for
His fifty cal shell's in the building door
Animal rights, Both sides handlin pipes
Kenny Rogers with the dice how we gamble with life
Cameras and lights, A blind fold damage your sights
It's real, Another brother got hammered tonight
It's code black, Cojack's tappin your phone jacks
Livin by the code I was shown by the old cats
Little nigga grown now I'm totin a mack
Shorty sixteen tellin me she'll blow my back
A day in the life, The neighborhood hype, Johnny got blazed
And blaze gettin money, And money got AIDs
He an eighty-six O.G. who sniff now
Sugar Hill, Romeo cat who bring your clique down
Not only was he sniffin the work
They found a wire tap when they ripped open his shirt
It's not hurt, The burners will burst, The murders occure
Momma on the strip, Daughter learnin from her
Fish nets with the big breasts workin the curve
Quick sex for a big check thirstin to splurge
Drama at night, The llama starts sparkin the light
It's part of the life, The highers like Bacardi on ice
Party all night and pray that you'll make it till morn
In the cursed Earth all things sacred are gone
In the hall by the gate door wavin the four
Keep your ear to the street or your face to the floor
Either or heat flame for the cause, Beat Jake and the law
Keep cakin, Keep bangin for yours
Son you'd rather be loved then feared
There's a price on your head, And you can catch slugs from here
The drugs, The beer, Have a nigga bug for years
Livin a lie, The mask can't cover the tears
Gotta rise up from under the stairs
It never rains in Southern Cal, But yo it's thunderin here
Just look, The killers, The crooks, The villains, The Jux
The flowers by the grave of the witness who looked
Mob style in the broad day, Business is took
Dirty cop on the tape gettin hit off the books
Heaven for some, They squeeze off weapons for fun
Tattoo on his back stay second to none
Hard body, He'll die for his section of slum
If it's hood then it's like that wherever you from