Hood Tales

[Hook: D.V. Alias Khrist] These are them hood tales We live that you say in your rap songs It’s real talk in the form of a single So as the block gets thicker we move a little quicker Away from the eyes of the Lord [Verse 1: Kool G Rap] From the Queens plains cats walk with big things [?] jook your big frame My shit bangin’, how dare you talk the kid’s name You walk around with the gems blangin’ you insane The hood the perfect capital, it’s murder capital Capital punishment, money is real When I clap on my steel make ‘em pass bills to Capitol Hill Capital G, space nigga R-A-P Hold it down with AR-15s, better believe, [?] Spray y’all strip clean, make y’all shit jeans It ain’t no faking over here [?] ‘cause my bacon over here And this niggas on the block like his wake is over there Cops set up shop, taking over squares The duke he disappears when Jakes roll near Straight up man stock is what we hold here [Hook] [Verse 2: Kool G Rap] Get duffeled, your limbs missing like World War II Gun in your mouth, throwing in your girl [?] You Siamese twins, six shooters, I cross two Both dogs eat a nigga’s ass like George [?] I pack, man, I’m Pac Man, chew a man’s crew Gobble ‘em up, hit the club we bottlin’ up No hoodrats, just models and up Find a nice one to swallow ‘em up That’s your wife, son, she gobble a nut Back in a minute, don’t distract a menace Tell all your cats to save the racket for the tennis Back where I’m at again, I clap you with the fences Gon’ play all day, put data in your census Clique is real deal, we clickin’ real steel No playing, we leave you laying stiffer than steel Don’t get it twisted, long jersey can still steal Then we [?] slug through your Caddy Deville grill [Hook] [Verse 3: Kool G Rap] Nigga when my firearm is dumpin’ my arm is jumpin’ My shit disconnect limbs, kid your arm be chumpin’ And we be armed like a army bunkin’ You can get it off the arm for frontin’, follow me home for nothin’ The drama’s comin’, on a different note I hit bitches with different strokes like Amano drummin’ Your armor’s nothin’, when I shoot through Niggas better roll like the niggas from The Roots, arms drummin’ Homie done dumb and ain’t nothing comin’ Picture that, it’s like a nun comin’ Nigga what’s done is done, you and your dun get done in You should a gunned your gum instead of running your gums and The lane tight, we bang pipes like plumbers plumbin’ Make you vegetables, onions and plums and Oh my bad, a plum is a fruit, yeah that’s true Well that Sup-Dup son is a fruit I got a screw loose, matter of fact got two loose [Hook]