Harry Potter in the hood
Harry Potter in the hood
I am a boy named Harry both my parents are death. Now I´m hanging in a ghetto earning wizard street cred. In the common room crib I be chillin with the shorties, my homies and me be drinking butter beer forties. Malfoy is the boy I´d like kick in the rump, we´re at each others throats just like Rosie and Trump. I fight the 3 headed dog and I ride the big birdy. Buckbeak is my freak cuz she makes me feel dirty I pimped out my broomstick with 28 speakers I once cut a house elf just to take his sneakers. Voldemort is my bitch, fool, he ain´t no man I can´t wait to bust a cap up in his Azkaban. My name is Harry P. to the „O“ to the „T“ to the „T“ to the „E“ to the „R“ you see. He´s a magic man, he puts the hex in the city, don´t call him Harry Potter, cause my name is H. Piddy. When dementors are near it´s like the artic zone so I hufflepuff the chronic till sorcerer´s stoned. At the drive thru in my invisibility cloak - for the Order of the Phoenix I´ll take fries and a coke. I eat chocolate frogs and booger flavor beans, I be grubbing on Hedwig´s hot and spicy wings. The muggles all see me as a nifty gent, but I can take more bullets than 50 Cent. An evil spell can cause a bad reaction like a day care, centrer run by Michael Jackson. I drink poly-juice potion, carousing, doing drive by magic on my Nimbus 2000. My name is Harry P. to the „O“ to the „T“ to the „T“ to the „E“ to the „R“ you see. He´s a magic man, he puts the hex in the city, don´t call him Harry Potter, cause my name is H. Piddy. Water skiing with Hagrid in the castle trough, on the carpets eating burgers like Hasslehoff. I´m a bad boy wizard, I don´t tolerate phonies I showed the world my privates in that show about ponies. I be ditching my scarf with the robe and the tie - got this bitching gear from Fubu and it´s super-fly. A wizard is judged by his ice and his threads Galeon gold in my grill, extensions in my dreads. The ladies all love me cause I look so fine I´m popping out more babies than Federline. Two parts pumpkin juice, one part Mr. Pibb a dime bag of flu-powder to get back to the crib. A pinch od dragons eye and a smidge of toadstool one sip you´re flying high, just like Paula Abdul. My name is Harry P. to the „O“ to the „T“ to the „T“ to the „E“ to the „R“ you see. He´s a magic man, he puts the hex in the city, don´t call him Harry Potter, cause my name is H. Piddy. In the hood, in the hood, he´s the wizard in the hood he uses magic powers for the forces of good he eradicates evil, he protects the poor. I get a little, on my dumbledore.