作词 : C Murder, Master P ...
(Master P)
Don't make me call the dogs (use my ghetto code)
Oh we got beef? (Hoody Hoo)
I represent the dirty south
For all my thugs and thugettes out there
To the world
Get rowdy rowdy bout it bout it (Where they at?)
Where the tru thugs at?
4 or 5 hummers Burban Jag for the summer
SS sittin 20's but I ain't no mutha****in stunter
Grab the gat where they at rat tat tat tat
I represent the 3rd ward
You a rookie, I'm a vet, you the captain, I'm the crunch
You got that dinner, I got the lunch, hit the weed, pass the blunts
Your eyes red, you got the munchies
How you like me now, gold teeth when I smile
Try to take me out the ghetto but I'm still buckwild
(Chorus)
So buckle up nigga, knuckle up nigga
(Hoody Hoo!) That's the code for them killas
(Hoody Hoo!) Buckle up, knuckle up (What you wanna do?)
(Hoody Hoo!) Buckle up, knuckle up (What you wanna do?)
(Hoody Hoo!) Buckle up, knuckle up (What you wanna do?)
(Hoody Hoo!) Buckle up, knuckle up (What you wanna do?)
(Hoody Hoo!) Buckle up, knuckle up (What you wanna do?)
(Silkk the Shocker)
One for the money, two for the show
Three for my niggaz, four to go
When I hear hoody hoo it's time to ride
Let nothin slide, let nothin go
If you bout your paper then scream (Hoody Hoo!)
If you don't **** with them haters scream (Hoody Hoo!)
If you about big thangs then scream (Hoody Hoo!)
If about havin thangs the scream (Hoody Hoo!)
(Master P)
Whoa, hold on lil daddy, watch my feet
I know you gettin rowdy and everything
KL, bring that beat back
(Silkk the Shocker)
Drop the hot shit
So I can cop the new shit, the blue six
Niggaz hatin these days
So guess what, I bulletproofed it
N-O-L-I-M-I to the T nigga
TRU is who we be nigga
Then scream if you with me nigga
(Chorus)
(C-Murder)
Straight from the South, got them golds in my mouth
Converse on my feet
Thug girls bounce dat ass to the beat
We be No Limit niggaz, and we rowdy
We come to the club and get the mother****er wildin
****, I been to the streets
Rest in peace to my peeps
Stay at home if you weak, gotta hustle just to eat
And the pound put it down, all them girls can't tell
TRU niggaz make mail, all them haters go to hell
Throw 'em up Uptown, all the way to Downtown
You might get clowned, so you better pack a round
TRU niggaz want it all, we gon' ball till we fall
Put my tank on the wall, Hoody Hoo be call, nigga
(Chorus to fade)