Lyrics Waka Flocka Flame – Hoodrich

Hood nigga this, hood nigga that (on that hood shit)
Hood niggas got dreads and golds and that strap
Waka Flocka Flame, you know my fucking gang
1017, that’s what a nigga claim

I’m so fucking turnt up with this hood bitch
Diamonds hella bright, you can call me hood rich
But on some hood shit, I fuck with the hood niggas
In the club with the bangers and the drug dealers
Eastside, twist your fingers up
Westside, twist your fingers up
Northside, twist your fingers up
Southside, twist your fingers up

For your chain and ring, you could get dome checked
In the studio all day, trying to bust a check
Tattoos on my body, call it illustration
Hard work, no play, fuck a vacation
Seven days a week, even in my sleep
Even when I eat, money’s all a nigga speak
These niggas too funny
Got the super money, independent mixtape money
And to the westside, Flocka fucking with you
What’s up eastside? You know I’m fucking with you
Ay, northside, Waka Flame got you, mane
Southside is what I claim, that’s my fucking gang

I’m so fucking turnt up with this hood bitch
Diamonds hella bright, you can call me hood rich
But on some hood shit, I fuck with the hood niggas
In the club with the bangers and the drug dealers
Eastside, twist your fingers up
Westside, twist your fingers up

I’m back, Waka, nigga
I’m strapped, Flocka, nigga
This track Southside, going bonkers, nigga
Goku a nigga, better know voodoo, nigga
I shoot a nigga, ice pick choke a nigga
Is you Blood, Crip, Latin King, or Folk, my nigga?
Waka Flocka Flame, straight Bedrock your brain
What set you claim? Nigga, what hood you from?
Sell crack, play ball, or shoot a handgun
Shawty, I stay on my shit
These haters trying to snitch on me like I’m Michael Vick
But you can call me Waka Flame
Offset my car and pulled out my chain

I’m so fucking turnt up with this hood bitch
Diamonds hella bright, you can call me hood rich
But on some hood shit, I fuck with the hood niggas
In the club with the bangers and the drug dealers
Eastside, twist your fingers up
Westside, twist your fingers up
Northside, twist your fingers up
Southside, twist your fingers up

Offset, candy paint
Niggas rap about what they don’t got and what they think
I’ma rap about what I did and who the fuck I hate
Brick Squad clique, ’09, let’s get cake
I’m cooler than Jake the Snake
Hyper than Michael Jack
Rawer than Body Tap
So don’t get your face slapped
You’re faker than a wiretap
So shawty, stop that brick talk
My little buddy on the left like the Crip walk
My little Blood on the right like to B-hop
Where your trap spot?
Where your dope block? Is your name buzzing, nigga?
Heard your ass ain’t good for nothing
Used to be broke, made something out of nothing
Waka Flocka, nigga

I’m so fucking turnt up with this hood bitch
Diamonds hella bright, you can call me hood rich
But on some hood shit, I fuck with the hood niggas
In the club with the bangers and the drug dealers
Eastside, twist your fingers up
Westside, twist your fingers up
Northside, twist your fingers up
Southside, twist your fingers up