You gotta understand what I'm talking about, I'm gonna talk about it in this one. Sexy, sexy as hell. Yeah, yeah, yeah. So let me tell you about a player I know. Six foot four, 225, he's all the way live. See where I come from, he like a mic that he don't talk smack. He just twist, catch up. So that's the only kind of dude I'm demanding. And every girl like me understand it. And the ones that ain't, they still gotta have it. They don't know why, but they stay chained. I need a hood boy. White beaters and jeans. Always in the trap and it looks so good. I need a hood boy. Gone head pretty. We don't like them, they make something. I need a hood boy. Hot boys, rock boys, street boys. These boys ain't all right. Yeah, oh yeah. He knows how to treat a lady, but he won't let you get too rowdy. He stands up for himself, that's what I love most about him. He's all I see and all I need. And all that I want and all that I really used to do. I swear that my man's the truth. I swear that my man's the truth. I need a hood boy. White beaters and jeans. Always in the trap and it looks so good. I need a hood boy. Gone head pretty. We don't like them, they make something. I need a hood boy. Hot boys, rock boys, street boys. These boys ain't all right. Yeah, oh yeah. I need a hood boy. White beaters and jeans. Always in the trap and it looks so good. I need a hood boy. Gone head pretty. We don't like them, they make something. I need a hood boy. Hot boys, rock boys, street boys. These boys ain't all right. Yeah, oh yeah. D-A-double-D-Y, stay vibin', fly. Ever since a nigga started saying bye. That's right, stand by. Cause we about to take flight. Not a 747, but the music and the microphone. Home, if you got somebody waiting, baby. Gone home, don't wanna jeopardize your safety. Maybe later. We shake the haters and get busy. You say you want to do same thing, then get with me. If not, then hit me. I know you know the history. Last ride around looking real crispy. Ride around town, top down on the grizzly. Grind all the time to stay hot or either sizzling. I thought I told you, we run stop signs. Cause we don't stop till the cops come knocking. Clutch, you block sign, not mine. Twine gone rhyme, why? Like sunshine in cold North through summertime. Now bow down. I need a hood boy. White fetus and jeans. Always in the trap. And he look so manly. I need a hood boy. Gold hair, pretty. We don't look good in them. This a hood girl. I need a hood boy. Hot boys, rock boys, street boys. These boys ain't all right. Yeah, oh yeah. Shawty want a bop with you. Shawty want a bop with you. Want a bop with you. I want a bop with you.