[Intro: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
(Zone 6 n***a, Pyrex whipper)
(Pyrex)
Yeah

[Chorus: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
Dripping, I mix the designer with custom
Heart of a killer, the mind of a hustler
Don't trust myself, why the fuck would I trust?
Fill up my savings, put stones in my bust
Stand on the pedal, I leave ’em in dust
Can't fit in the Lam' and we got the truck
Gotta stay down if you down on your luck
If I get locked up, I ain’t got nothing to discuss
I just feel bad for them n***as switched up
I probably sprained my ankle runnin' it up
I made a mil' in the booth and the trap
Ruth's Chris, n***a, we used to eat scraps

[Interlude: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
Ha
Heart of a killer, the mind of a hustler
Pablo Juan, n***a, Hoodrich shit
I'm really from the hood, like (Hеart of a killer, the mind of a hustler)
I ain't had nothing, n***a, I was poor, n***a
Got nothing еlse to say about that shit, n***a
(Ayy, Pyrex, this motherfucker hard as fuck, slime)
Don't trust myself, why the fuck would I trust?
Hood
[Verse 1: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
I used to have to walk to Dunkin' Donuts and catch ’em ’fore they throw that shit in the trash
I ain't no junkie, ain’t smoking my profit, scale it and bag it and get it off fast
Used to go to the marathon in the A1 just to have to get it all, n***a, straight glass
Trap it on McAfee by 2nd Ave
Ran up a milli', still ready to crash
Tank on E, but I still got that gas
N***as know me, I ain't even gotta brag
Sosa my dog, that's the plug out Iraq
Money Power Respect, throw away in the money rag
Came up from shit, how the fuck can I lose?
Thought I was pussy, you got me confused
Really, I can’t wait 'til somebody try me, I bet he'll be dead if he don't make the news
Got dope in the car, I just put it on cruise
Can't walk a mile in my shoes
Double C, standing in Candler Crossing
They bring all that money like David Ruffin
I was trapped out the 'partments, you rapping and bluffing
You must be stupid, don't tell me you love me
Deuce in the cream, when I mix it, it's bubbly
Serve out the window, McDonald's, they loving it

[Chorus: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
Dripping, I mix the designer with custom
Heart of a killer, the mind of a hustler
Don't trust myself, why the fuck would I trust?
Fill up my savings, put stones in my bust
Stand on the pedal, I leave 'em in dust
Can't fit in the Lam' and we got the truck
Gotta stay down if you down on your luck
If I get locked up, I ain't got nothing to discuss
I just feel bad for them n***as switched up
I probably sprained my ankle runnin' it up
I made a mil' in the booth and the trap
Ruth's Chris, n***a, we used to eat scraps
[Verse 2: CEO Trayle]
Ayy, this an Audemars, this not a Rolex
Uh, trap like I need Bowflex, finna go hit that store next
Uh, send a whole blitz
Ayy, can't teach an old dog new tricks
N***as just 'round 'cause they saw me lit
N***as wasn't around, no cheese in my grits
With some all black 1s, I kick
Hating-ass n***a, you saw my shit
Ayy, n***a, I don't need that bitch
N***a, ain't nothing to ball that bitch
Ayy, n***a, I seen that switch
N***a, I damn near called that shit
Ayy, love these Percs, can't call it quits
Can't love no ho, that's all she get
Uh, n***a might cop four bricks
Uh, n***a might cop a stick
My bitch keep tryna start arguments
I'm at the backdoor, foe, you started this
Shoot my shot, I hardly miss
Put titties on that, take off the dick
Ayy, she suck the dick, she saw my wrist
Ayy, she tried to kiss, I jawed the bitch
Ain't no rapper, I ain't making no diss
Well-known stepper, I step on shit
Well-known flexer, I flex up, bitch
Four of Wockhardt, go get my kid
Yeah, yeah, pouring up drank, I sip
Said, "Free 'Blo," with it on my hip
Ayy, you know I'm eating Pringles, stack my chips
I was mixing all this designer drip
[Chorus: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
Dripping, I mix the designer with custom
Heart of a killer, the mind of a hustler
Don't trust myself, why the fuck would I trust?
Fill up my savings, put stones in my bust
Stand on the pedal, I leave 'em in dust
Can't fit in the Lam' and we got the truck
Gotta stay down if you down on your luck
If I get locked up, I ain't got nothing to discuss
I just feel bad for them n***as switched up
I probably sprained my ankle runnin' it up
I made a mil' in the booth and the trap
Ruth's Chris, n***a, we used to eat scraps

[Outro: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
Dripping, I mix the designer with custom
Heart of a killer, the mind of a hustler
Don't trust myself, why the fuck would I trust?
Fill up the savings, put stones in my bust
Don't trust myself, why the fuck would I trust?