(feat. Jadakiss, Petey Pablo, Chyna
Whyte)
[Intro - Roy Jones Jr.]
Yeah this Roy Jones
Jr.
Pound for pound the baddest thing throwin' down
The undisputed light
heavyweight champion of the world
We about to knock niggas heads off with
this put yo hood up remix
Lil' Jone and the East Side Boyz
Jadakiss, Petey
Pablo, Chyna Whyte
Represent y'all in the hood tonight
Yeah, yeah, uh
uh
[Hook]
Put yo hood up
Put yo hood up
Put yo hood
up
Put yo hood up
Put yo click up
Put yo click up
Put yo click
up
Put yo click up
Represent yo shit motherfucker
Represent yo shit
motherfucker
Represent yo click motherfucker
Represent yo click
motherfucker
[Verse 1 - Jadakiss]
I hold a 44 from the side
angle
Gunshots below the waist'll make ya thigh dangle
Uh you know Kiss,
all I do is puff hem all day
Gettin' money in the Bluff or on MLK
Since
they brough gold back
I bought me a gold mack
To explode I leave ya back
on Old National
I'm in a gentlemen's club with gentlemen thugs
But they
call my hood pool dog cause we swimmin' in drugs
Get high, get drunk, and we
get shit crunk
Violate you might die or just get jumped
Jadakiss, Lil' Jon
and them Eastside Boyz
D-Block, every nigga got at least five toys
Double
R till they put me in the ground
And I come back as a bullet, nigga put me in
the pound
Stop actin' like a bitch you scared
What up niggas the remix,
put yo hood up niggas
[Hook]
[Verse 2 - Petey
Pablo]
It's the dirty boy's home town, yeah bitch I'm on now
Act any
motherfuckin' way I want cause shit I'm in my own house
Music - extra, extra
loud
Shorties - extra, extra out
My flows - four mics, get The Source
bitch and check it out
I came to knock this bastard down
Juic - ya
bleedin' now
You be it - the Petey style
Why - hit the curb man I got
'em
With the open mouth
All I hear is oohs and awes
What ya mama said,
damn Petey king now
Pow, I'm on they tails now
Helicopter well now
From
Carolina to the ATL, it's hell now
Ah, simmer down, simmer down
Before
they kick our ass out
Lil' Jon thanks for the sixteen, yeah
now
[Hook]
[Verse 3 - Chyna Whyte]
Ha ha, keep
the fame nigga I'm in it for the dough
Fuck the glow, what's the sense if you
ain't got cash to blow
I had to shift my gears from fast to slow
And get
it past they time
Hopin' that when I call home they dead or press the
nine
I bet yo hood can't fuck with mine
Ooh the language I speak when them
people roll around
And niggas just don't crack they leak
And they too
quick to quack they beak
You hungry nigga's ribs touchin' what
Now you
want half my meat
You know the narrow
Nigga I still run with the four
pound metals
Still lacin' the tracks with the pain of the ghetto
You boys
livin' a dream like the Cosbys
And I'm tell ya one mo' time, no that ain't me
on Foxy
Don't get it twisted I got hitters that'll do you in
And if the
Feds come I got hitters that'll do my ten
With no problem, on every song I
plant my flow blossom
From guns to gospel, Chyna Whyte AKA The
Apostle
[Verse 5 - Lil' Jon & The East Side Boyz]
Bia bia -
put yo click up and shout it out loud
Bia bia - put yo click up and shout it
out loud
Bia bia - get buck in the motherfuckin' crowd
Bia bia - get buck
in the motherfuckin' crowd
We run this bitch, yo click ain't shit
We run
this bitch, yo click ain't shit
We run this bitch, yo click ain't shit
We
run this bitch, yo click ain't shit
Say nigga fuck you - fuck you
Nigga
fuck you - fuck you
Nigga fuck you - fuck you
Nigga fuck you - fuck
you
Nigga fuck you - fuck you
Nigga fuck you - fuck you
Nigga fuck you
- fuck you
Nigga fuck you - fuck you
Nigga fuck you - fuck
you
[Hook]