[Intro: DJ Khaled]
DJ Khaled! We the best
Who? We, n***a! We the best
This the remix! The "I'm So Hood" remix!
I'm makin' mo—vies!
I'm so hood, remix!

[Chorus: T-Pain, DJ Khaled & Jeezy]
(I'm so hood!) Yeah, I wear my pants below my waist
And I never dance when I'm in this place
We always gon' be the best, man
'Cause you and your man is plannin' to hate (We run this, man)
(I'm so hood!) And I got these golds up in my mouth
I make hit records, man, this is what I do
If you get closer to my house, then you know what I'm talkin' 'bout
I'm out the (Hood!) And if you feel me, put your hands up
I'm out the, this the remix
(Hood!) My hood n***as, can you stand up?
Put 'em up, put 'em up, put 'em up
I gave you We Takin' Over (Yo Khaled)
(I'm so hood!) If you not from here you can walk it out
Ay, Young Jeezy (I got 'em, homie)
And you not hood if you don't know what I'm talkin' 'bout
You got me? (Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey)
I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm (We run this, man, we run this!)
[Verse 1: Jeezy, Ludacris & T-Pain]
I'm so H to the double O-D
Walk around, there's goddamn money on me
Pockets so fat, don't make no sense
Whips so clean, it don't need no tints
Watch so bright, it don't need no light
You know where it were, don't need no mic
N***as like, "Young, what you get for your show?"
Tell 'em, "Same thing I used to get for the blow"
Set 'em on the run, n***a, what I got to lose?
Put 'em in the vans, I ain't talkin' 'bout the shoes
Do the speed limit, watch out for the lights
Pussy ass n***as, gotta watch out for the dykes
Seventeen-five, yeah n***a, I said it
Seventeen-five, yeah n***a, I meant it
And when we do it bad, but I'm doin' good (In my hood, Luda!)
I'm so, I'm so, I'm so motherfuckin' (Hood!)

[Verse 2: Ludacris & T-Pain]
Look here, everybody come equipped with bangers
Throwin' up our middle fingers
And you know I don't slip
So I gotta keep ten in the clip and one in the chamber
Better be walkin' with angels
And never take candy from strangers
Through the stress and strife
Had to earn my stripes like I played with the Bengals (Hood!)
I'm in the zone, holmes, goin' for the two-point conversion
I'm so hood that Ludacris shoulda been on the original version
But this is the remix, with the cheap tricks, hittin' sweet licks
And I cut the braids off
But the waves and the fade'll make you seasick
See this is the way that we ball
And this is the way that we brawl
So put a fist in the air if you care
That united we stand and divided we fall
When the South's in the house, better watch your mouth
'Cause we on that hood shit
I'm hood rich, comin' around your hood, bitch
I swear I'm so—
[Chorus: T-Pain, DJ Khaled & Busta Rhymes]
I'm so hood! (Remix!) and if you feel me, put your hands up
(Hood!) My hood n***as, can you stand up?
Khaled, they actin' like we ain't
(I'm so hood!) If you not from here you can walk it out
The kings of the streets and the gods of the hood
And you not hood if you don't know what I'm talkin' 'bout
Busta Bust, bitches!
I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm so hood!

[Verse 3: Busta Rhymes & T-Pain]
See all I know is how to go and get my money again and again
Top down, let the money blow in the wind
With a bad bitch sittin' in the passenger seat
With a doobie-wrapped head full of bobbie pins
You know I keep that thang when I walk
See the dialect different from the slang in my talk
Baby still leavin', got a crackhead frontin'
Got another bad bitch that'll boost for the spark (Hood!)
I'm used to leavin' the strip last
Hustlin' until the sun comes up gettin' cash
So much bread in all of my four pockets
It look like a n***a got hips with an ass
And from the DNA in my blood
N***as idolize me and try to do what I does
And if that other n***a ain't really from the hood
You can easily die, tell who that fake n***a was (Hood!)
And even though I spit a little rap
Got n***as in the hood tryna sell the most crack
Violator, I send a n***a to do it
Just to make you spend a lot of money just to get your shit back!
Y'all n***as know where I'm from
And I rep it to the fullest 'til the day that I'm done
So hood where we live, if a n***a sold drugs
And he rich, momma still proud of her son! (Hood!)
[Verse 4: Big Boi & T-Pain]
Daddy Fat Saxxx so hood like the Cadillac
Ornament, on from the Babylon
Call an ambulance to come and pick that ass up
Cause the n***a never had the chance
They tryna dance with the devil in a pale moonlight
Advance on a level that they can't do right
Lay hands on a fella like the man in blue lights
Whoop, whoop, do it twice (Hood!)
Your boy the B-I-G
I'm nicer than MC in your top three
You cocky, I cock, squeeze
Bust them things, now you sloppy
Speed it up, slow it down then screw it
Don't bite the flow cause I got that fluid
Run through the crew on some whole other new shit
Newness, bitch, we do this

[Chorus: T-Pain, DJ Khaled & Lil Wayne]
I'm so hood! (Remix) and if you feel me, put your hands up
(Hood!) My hood n***as, can you stand up?
(I'm so hood!) If you not from here, you can walk it out (Alright)
And you not hood if you don't know what I'm talkin' 'bout (Weezy!)
I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm so hood!

[Verse 5: Lil Wayne, T-Pain & Fat Joe]
I'm so Hollygrove, New Orleans (Lil Weezyana)
Home sweet, Home Depot, you will need a hammer
It go down like Frasier, I ain't talkin' Kelsey Grammer
I be shittin' on you boys, I need a Alka-Seltzer sandwich, ugh (Hood!)
Since I heard Plies, I done bought the Phantom back
And went and got me a fifty-two inch Maybach (Calca, ghetto gatka, haha)
I'm eatin' like a big dog, I'm so full, I'm so good
I'm so straight, you so fake, I'm so real, I'm so hood (I'm so hood!)
Yup, crack, crack, crack, crack-crack-crack-crack-crack-crack

[Verse 6: Fat Joe, T-Pain & Birdman]
Yeah n***a, welcome to the Crackhouse
I should own a McDonald's the way I bring the MAC's out
I'm from the hood where every n***a lies
Flip a couple grams, they tell you they bakin' pies, shit (Hood!)
Still got my name carved in that central bookin'
Gave that pussy a scar and told her, "Good lookin'" (Yeah)
You's a crack baby, that means your momma paid me
You can't even blame me, that's what the hood made me

[Verse 7: Birdman & T-Pain]
Martin Luther King, Calliope, Magnolia, Melpomene
Gettin' that money with a triple beam
We ride on Clyde, on Josephine
Saints is my team, that's what we breathe n***a
That's how we eat, get this money on the streets n***a (Hood!)
VL my street, blood, five star G, blood
Fly as a bird, got these eagles on my seat, blood
Then head back where I stay, 3rd Ward, we get that cake
Thirteen is where I lay, shouts out to M-I-A (Hood!)

[Verse 8: Rick Ross & T-Pain]
Mo' money, mo' problems, don't call me conceited
Just call me the boss, always got what you needed
M-I-Yayo so hot, but my neck got the fever
If you sneeze, you get shot, Gunplay makin' believers (Hood!)
I just bought me a ranch, watch the hundreds stacks
No, those ain't Rolex diamonds, what you done to that?
You fools fugazi, my fools from Haiti
I moves 'em daily – it's a movie, baby! (Hood!)