(feat. Jadakiss, Petey Pablo, Chyna Whyte)    [Intro - Roy Jones Jr.]  Yeah this Roy Jones Jr.  Pound for pound the baddest thing throwin' down  The undisputed light heavyweight champion of the world  We about to knock niggas heads off with this put yo hood up remix  Lil' Jone and the East Side Boyz  Jadakiss, Petey Pablo, Chyna Whyte  Represent y'all in the hood tonight  Yeah, yeah, uh uh    [Hook]  Put yo hood up  Put yo hood up  Put yo hood up  Put yo hood up  Put yo click up  Put yo click up  Put yo click up  Put yo click up  Represent yo shit motherfucker  Represent yo shit motherfucker  Represent yo click motherfucker  Represent yo click motherfucker    [Verse 1 - Jadakiss]  I hold a 44 from the side angle  Gunshots below the waist'll make ya thigh dangle  Uh you know Kiss, all I do is puff hem all day  Gettin' money in the Bluff or on MLK  Since they brough gold back  I bought me a gold mack  To explode I leave ya back on Old National  I'm in a gentlemen's club with gentlemen thugs  But they call my hood pool dog cause we swimmin' in drugs  Get high, get drunk, and we get shit crunk  Violate you might die or just get jumped  Jadakiss, Lil' Jon and them Eastside Boyz  D-Block, every nigga got at least five toys  Double R till they put me in the ground  And I come back as a bullet, nigga put me in the pound  Stop actin' like a bitch you scared  What up niggas the remix, put yo hood up niggas    [Hook]    [Verse 2 - Petey Pablo]  It's the dirty boy's home town, yeah bitch I'm on now  Act any motherfuckin' way I want cause shit I'm in my own house  Music - extra, extra loud  Shorties - extra, extra out  My flows - four mics, get The Source bitch and check it out  I came to knock this bastard down  Juic - ya bleedin' now  You be it - the Petey style  Why - hit the curb man I got 'em  With the open mouth  All I hear is oohs and awes  What ya mama said, damn Petey king now  Pow, I'm on they tails now  Helicopter well now  From Carolina to the ATL, it's hell now  Ah, simmer down, simmer down  Before they kick our ass out  Lil' Jon thanks for the sixteen, yeah now    [Hook]    [Verse 3 - Chyna Whyte]  Ha ha, keep the fame nigga I'm in it for the dough  Fuck the glow, what's the sense if you ain't got cash to blow  I had to shift my gears from fast to slow  And get it past they time  Hopin' that when I call home they dead or press the nine  I bet yo hood can't fuck with mine  Ooh the language I speak when them people roll around  And niggas just don't crack they leak  And they too quick to quack they beak  You hungry nigga's ribs touchin' what  Now you want half my meat  You know the narrow  Nigga I still run with the four pound metals  Still lacin' the tracks with the pain of the ghetto  You boys livin' a dream like the Cosbys  And I'm tell ya one mo' time, no that ain't me on Foxy  Don't get it twisted I got hitters that'll do you in  And if the Feds come I got hitters that'll do my ten  With no problem, on every song I plant my flow blossom  From guns to gospel, Chyna Whyte AKA The Apostle    [Verse 5 - Lil' Jon & The East Side Boyz]  Bia bia - put yo click up and shout it out loud  Bia bia - put yo click up and shout it out loud  Bia bia - get buck in the motherfuckin' crowd  Bia bia - get buck in the motherfuckin' crowd  We run this bitch, yo click ain't shit  We run this bitch, yo click ain't shit  We run this bitch, yo click ain't shit  We run this bitch, yo click ain't shit  Say nigga fuck you - fuck you  Nigga fuck you - fuck you  Nigga fuck you - fuck you  Nigga fuck you - fuck you  Nigga fuck you - fuck you  Nigga fuck you - fuck you  Nigga fuck you - fuck you  Nigga fuck you - fuck you  Nigga fuck you - fuck you    [Hook]