Nas – Hood2Hood Lyrics


Nas Hood2Hood Lyrics

Yo, yo yo, yeah
Hey Hit, that’s some nice new pieces you got
Bracelets, trinkets, and necklaces
Yeah, yo
Real shit only, yeah

Super Bowl champs celebrate like me
With Escobar cigars let me say my peace
Money attract money, statewide hustlers
Jewelry sellers exposed by these fake watch busters
And they ain’t teach savin’ money to young n*****
Young warriors, I wanna see them all in position
Best to have it on you, hope you don’t go down for possession
Mom’s puttin’ up the house to bail you out when arrested
How did I become number one, I’m one-of-one?
Flyin’ down the 101, right under the Cali sun
Junior Mafia out the subs, shorty callin’ me Son
If one clique make a million today, it probably be us
Probably because my Midas touch for vital stuff
Rappers wanna shoot up the studio, they tired of us
We know that controversy sells, so y’all good
When I drop, they hear me on every block, hood to hood

Red Hook, Fort Greene, Canarsie
Hood to hood
Far Rock, East New York, QB
Compton, Long Beach, IE
Hood to hood
Southside Chicago, players in the D
Hood to hood

If we all made n*****, then why is we beefin’?
When them Jewish brothers be chillin’, Shabbat Friday evenin’
Even in jail, I hear the Latins got each other back
Not us, we jump each other for the phone, it comes to blacks
Don’t worry ’bout nobody else tryna energy match
Sense any cap and that’s when I really attack
I’m OJ with the memorabilia, had to steal it back
Like the Nas flow we be hearin’ on your tracks
Stop that my guy, you are not that, my guy
That feelin’ to be a king, can’t top that, my guy
King’s Disease, I’m still poppin’ these young things
Got me thinkin’ like Amerie “It’s This One Thing”
Floaties in the pool, got drones over the roof
Just like Drakeo The Ruler, my n****, we know the truth
I put out dangerous thought
I’m convinced it’s a mixture of Paisley Park
Prince with Supreme Team Prince

Big up to Paisley, shout out to 40, Harlem
Hood to hood
Lincoln Houses, Castle Hill, Bronx shit
On the West side, in the Jungles, to the 60s
Hood to hood
Out in O-town, to Vallejo, where the pimps be
Hood to hood

DC got big ol’ guns
B’more got big ol’ guns
ATL got big ol’ guns and big ol’ buns and big ol’ funds, yeah
Miami got lots of sun, yeah
Dade County got big ol’ guns, yeah
Stop messin’ around, put the pistols down
Or we all will soon be done, dead

Hood to hood to mansion to mansion
That’s the new version of hood to hood
New excursions, yeah
Block parties, on the block, the new block
Your house and my house, ha ha
Hood to hood

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