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k michelle - supahood lyrics

[intro]
beats for the stars

[verse 1: k. mich#lle]
901 on my phone comin’ through
young n#gga, street dude, twenty#two
sorry, i’m not ’bout to play wit’ you (i’m so sorry)
’cause if we f#ck and you f#ck up, then i’ma shoot (shoot, yeah, shoot)
memphis n#ggas drive me crazy (crazy)
i may let him f#ck and he ain’t even gotta pay me (he gotta pay)
he be wit’ the sh#t, never fugazi
he don’t hesitate to shoot for a lady
i roll his weed and now he like to buy my weed, and
he be all the drink i needed
i admit that i love this sh#t

[pre#chorus: k. mich#lle]
’cause the hooder the better, we better together
the richer the n#gga, the p#ssy get wetter
the hooder the better, we better together
the richer the n#gga, the p#ssy get wetter (yeah)

[chorus: k. mich#lle]
super hood (super, super)
super hood (super, super)
super hood (super, super)
super hood, i love my n#ggas
super hood (super, super)
super hood (super, super)
super hood (super, super)
super hood, i love my b#tch
super hood (super, super)
super hood (super, super)
super hood (super, super)
super hood, i love my d#ck
super good (super, super)
super good (super, super)
super good (super, super)
super good, i love my b#tch

[verse 2: yung miami]
when they super hood that d#ck be super good (d#mn)
it’s just somethin’ ’bout them n#ggas when they out the hood (yeah, hm)
i let him hold my car with no licence (yep)
knock a b#tch out, bite him like i’m mike tyson (haha)
if he call me and i’m sleep, b#tch, i’m wakin’ up (i’m wakin’ up)
it’s like every other week, we be breakin’ up (child, please)
the only n#gga that can smoke weed in my car
if we get pulled over, stash the weed in my bra
let him hit raw, might give a baby to him (yep)
i’m super crazy ’bout him, god know i love ’em hood (god knows)
i ain’t goin’ nowhere, lets get that understood
i just love my n#ggas hood (period)

[pre#chorus: k. mich#lle]
the hooder the better, we better together
the richer the n#gga, the p#ssy get wetter
the hooder the better, we better together
the richer the n#gga, the p#ssy get wetter (yeah)

[verse 3: kash doll]
if he ain’t a hood n#gga, why bother?
rich’ll make me call ya, but both with get you farther
a block baby with more cabbage than a farmer
the type of n#gga used to trap out the mirada
used to have goals but he got rid of those
went from movin’ o’s to f#ckin’ wit’ ceo’s
when bad b#tches get chose, neck and wrists get froze
and them the type of n#gga soak my p#ssy through my clothes
and um, chocolate brown, nice smile, that’s the kind i like
kinda wild but that n#gga got his money right (right)
if i tell him “it’s a go”, he won’t hit the brakes
and you know that n#gga keep that fire on him just in case

- k michelle lyrics

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