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a$ap ferg - hood tales lyrics

[intro: dj drama]
let’s get it right
new n-ggas is coming to eat up all the food
(gangsta grillz!)
man they hungry
it’s an appet-te for destruction out here
the mob is equipped with full-armed artillery
what ya gon’ do?
(dj drama, f-ck these n-ggas up!)

[verse 1: a$ap ferg]
i was born in harlem where them things pop
at the block parties, n-ggas had to run
and they caught the motherf-ckers on the same block
and they all at the war with the gun
r.i.p. lil na, sharon, why they k!ll ya son?
d-mn it, if i could’ve did it, i’mma hit ’em with the ton
cl-t-a-d-ck, little-d-ck, feeling sh-t, hot in you lungs
turn you b-tch n-ggas to a couple nuns (lay ’em down)
i came in the store and saw the whole thing
he said, i hope that you not one of them
then i run around the corner, got the og’s
i told ’em, we got jumped by a couple punks
i swear to god, these n-ggas softer than the brady bunch
they gon’ get it, man, this sh-t been goin’ for a couple months
then turn around the corner, seen a crowd looking stunned
with the all shaking on the floor, not saying nothin’

[verse 2: a$ap ferg]
let me d bop
spanish n-gga, everybody thought he black (from the block)
used to wear a tank top with a fresh fade
oj, kinda fat, (oj give low)
face stay greasy pollo all you eatin’
thug n-gga with the cuban on the neck
always carried a tech, dominicano
trappin’ the bando, orlando, he was diablo in the flesh
dimelo got into a little mess with d bach
and he shot up the block with the desert
’bout to leave him messy but the bullets hit the belly
you could call me hollywood, not “the hood tyler perry”
n-ggas making movies, more n-ggas getting buried
n-ggas died, desert, but this sh-t ain’t really necessary
caught up in the life, he got rich and got blurry
he took his own life and the one that he married, ferg

[chorus: a$ap ferg]
this just where we from
we all dyin’ some day
at a picnic having fun
probably dyin’ by the gun
this just where we from
we prayin’ every sunday
when the k!llas gonna come
she about to lose her son, son
this just where we from
we all dyin’ some day
at a picnic having fun
probably dyin’ by the gun
this just where we from
we prayin’ every sunday
when the k!llas gonna come
she about to lose her son, son

- aap ferg lyrics

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