Turn the lights down low Runnin' block Sometimes you got to bow up I'm runnin' block Don't want know one to know That I tried to drink her skinny but she's still about two-fifteen Just take one for the team My buddy said his girlfriend is as pretty as

We're gonna have a house party Turn your TV off, break that boom-box out We'll wake up all the neighbours 'til the whole block hates us And the cops will show up and try to shut us down If you're gonna be a homebody If you wanna be a homebody You ain't

I got my corner on lockdown About to hold this whole block down Ludacris tell um how the South sound UUH BUDDAH-LAA AH, UH UH UH BUDDAH-LAA UHH BUDDAH-LAA AH uh oh uh oh uh oh Do that funky shit oh Do that funky shit uh Disturbin The Peace, Def Jam South

Baby you fix me I'd be crazy baby, lost forever Blowin' around in stormy weather Like a bunch of dead leaves I'd be a boarded up house on a dead end street Old Chevy on blocks, leakin' gasoline Oh it ain't hard to see Broke down is where I'd be

We're gonna have a house party Turn your TV off, break that boom-box out We'll wake up all the neighbours 'til the whole block hates us And the cops will show up and try to shut us down If you're gonna be a homebody If you wanna be a homebody You ain't

We're gonna have a house party Turn your TV off, break that boom-box out We'll wake up all the neighbours 'til the whole block hates us And the cops will show up and try to shut us down If you're gonna be a homebody If you wanna be a homebody You ain't

We're gonna have a house party Turn your TV off, break that boom-box out We'll wake up all the neighbours 'til the whole block hates us And the cops will show up and try to shut us down If you're gonna be a homebody If you wanna be a homebody You ain't

Can't keep my hands to myself My hands to myself Keep making love to each other All of the downs and the uppers You're metaphorical gin and juice And I'm trying, trying, I'm trying, trying And I'm trying, trying, I'm trying, but I I want it all, no,

Slaughter Gang shit, Murder Gang shit I'm on that Slaughter Gang shit, Murder Gang shit I pull up roll the window down and I just bought a pistol it got 30 rounds in it Pull up at yo momma house and put some rounds in it Wet a nigga block and watch them

Music's playing up and down the block Mostly Christian, blues, country, folk and southern rock It's a little piece of paradise way out here in the woods There's always something going on down in the trailerhood My neighbor Carl, he lives next door Pink