TRU (Master P - Hoody Hoo lyrics

(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 muthaf**in stunna 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, pa** 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 n***a, knuckle up n***a (Hoody Hoo!) That's the code for them k**as (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 n***as, 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 f** 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 sh** So I can cop the new sh**, the blue six n***as hatin these days So guess what, I bulletproofed it N-O-L-I-M-I to the T n***a TRU is who we be n***a Then scream if you with me n***a (Chorus) (C-Murder) Straight from the South, got them golds in my mouth Converse on my feet Thug girls bounce dat a** to the beat We be No Limit n***as, and we rowdy We come to the club and get the motherf**er wildin f**, 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 n***as 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 n***as want it all, we gon' ball till we fall Put my tank on the wall, Hoody Hoo be call, n***a (Chorus to fade)