conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Write me a song called Creepin’ Through Your Hood with the following description: Creepin' Through Your Hood is the 7th track  off of Juelz Santana’s Album, Santana’s World.
  This album released in 2008
  This song was produced by Just BlazeExpand Share Make sure the lyrics are different from the original song.
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: (Intro, Paul Wall & [Juelz Santana])
  Swisha House baby
  [Juelz Santana]
  Ya boy Paul Wall
  [I mean, I know it's a lot of hater on yo side]
  Yo I know they over there hatin on your side too
  [Oh yea, but'chu know we don't give a fuck about them niggas, man]
  Fuck 'em
  (Hook, Paul Wall & [Juelz Santana])
  We don't give a fuck about you
  We tote big guns, front, we'll pop you
  [We be]
  [Creepin through ya hood]
  [Creepin through ya hood]
  [Mask low, mean mug, creepin through ya hood]
  (Verse 1, Juelz Santana)
  I'm down and I'm dirty with this
  I'm down to get dirty, ya bitch
  Aww man, aww damn
  The pound is just hurtin my hip
  Fuck with me
  I'll show you how them pounds and them birdies get flipped
  Play around clown, you'll get found in the dirtiest ditch (Ey!)
  He like, yeah I don't give a fuck about who (bout who?)
  I'm like, we don't give a fuck about'chu ('Bout you)
  Hat low to the front
  Lean back, smokin a blunt (Ey!)
  See that button? Hit that, dope in the trunk
  Nope, coke in the trunk
  Nope, both in the trunk
  That gun is on my hip too, I been hopin you stunt (Yup!)
  You don't want my niggas creepin through ya hooood (Through ya hoood)
  You don't want my niggas creepin through ya woooods (Through ya wooods)
  You don't wanna see that pistol in ya face, homeboy
  You don't want my niggas leavin wit'cha gooooods (Gooods)
  So don't play like that (Don't)
  Don't act like that (Don't)
  If you ain't like that (You know) (Hook)
  (Verse 2, Paul Wall)
  I got them windows tinted, five-percent
  Presidential limo tint
  I can see you, but'chu can't see me
  Two-twenty-three with extended clip
  Them fifty shots gon' set it off
  So fire drill, bitch drop and roll
  Gimme that watch, gimme that chain
  Empty them pockets and pay the toll
  I hang with killas out on parole
  Catch ya cut, run and hide
  Evacuate, murder-for-hire
  Kinda like Omar from the wire
  We'll chop ya up like garlic cloves
  And cook ya ass, like Elmer the chef
  Take ya last breath, put on ya vest
  But I'm aimin at'cha head boy, not'cha chest
  Now pack the iron, I'll start'cha dyin
  Hit them legs and crease ya up
  Then I hit the spot with a bad bitch
  That'll slob a knob and piece me up
  And when ya wake up, in the morning
  To the sounds of them choppers roaring
  I wear the heat, just like Alonso
  We'll leave ya whole family in mourning
  I'm in the hood like wig shops
  I'm on the grind, on the block
  Posted up like Yao Ming
  In a low post, I'm on the box
  We'll chop ya up like a Screw tape
  And have ya hollerin like the Opera
  But with my side-kick goin off
  I ain't talkin about no T-Mobile partna (Hook)