Lyrics:
[Uncle Howie]
"Glenwood mother-fuckin' Projects, that was the fuckin' place man. Fuckin'
crack smoking all night. Cookin' it up, sellin' C4,
bounce with her, puff a ounce with her, not wise, not with
Papi chill, get sloppy, get killed by
Blood streams the guillotine f'real, yeah
Pop bottles
Two sides supported by two sides of fans against the wall
Two sides of hungry energy cause we all want it all
Two sides to every album, without both
Unless of course my album budget is all gone
I turn it in to my label, everybody like who
All these fans say that they love it, bought two copies off
rejuvenation
Triple album project, detonatin' tracks like these
Magnums and Berettas, part-time hostages at pottery classes
Blind date at the wax museum
we might just change a life… or two
We are the few that influence the many
We never had much
Quick to give away plenty
Let the goal be to give’em all
pass by still smoking
Four deep four blunts in motion
Two cups one pill um rolling
Blunt five blunt six still blowing
Dats thug my bruddha from the mud
on every car that pull beside me
Leavin' they project full of bodies
I turn that beat to plenty homis
Soon as he come out then we got 'em
We gon' drop
be trippin dont be doin no drive-bys
Cause we dont gangbang, dont wear blue or red
We like that fuckin green, papers what I said
Big Moe wassup, in
broke em all down and we all got high
And niggas don't be trippin don't be doin no drive-bys
Cause we don't gangbang, don't wear blue or red
We like
"Wait, get over here, Gregory-"
(Ahh)
God forgive me, hands full, I have sin
Won't you take he, shake the, save me
"Spin again, Spin Again"
Look,
better off than dyin' in a pit full of snakes
Yo, projectiles lace the project ailes
Organic, saw panic when I wreck shit and smile
With more props
It was an upset
In two minutes flat
We're back on the freeway
Foot to the mat
I can't understand it
We had it down pat
It's very upsetting
with the limp shocks
Of hair shooting off the top, dudes you got to stop
For real, kill it dead
I'm going to call you Project Pat because you look like
niggas ain’t on that
I thought that I told ya
Niggas ain’t on it
Them niggas be cap
Going real hard like
Project pat
Got a lil bitch
That I hit
From
me, Aquarius'Killa
That nigga I chop 'em Kenobi
Obi Wan, Star Wars
Killing these niggas im hard-core
Project to Pat, Nigga it's back
Denzel the Curry
[x8]
[verse two]
So shut up motherfuckers as I laid the ink
When I'm in Detroit,niggers fight in mink
When I'm in Chicago,motherfuckers get buck wild
And that's why I had to make this
Twenty-minute rap song
I'm 'bout to one take it
I just made my first album
Full of songs from the depths of my heart
Put on the full armor of God, keep that 'istol by yo side
Never know what's 'round the corner when the Devil's lurkin'
Gotta treat yo people right,
It's the bomb, baby
The bomb, baby
With no ifs, no ands, no buts, and no maybes
[Verse 1]
I walk through the projects with stress in my hands
couple albums.
(Yeah)!
Finished both in months
(Yeah)!
The Fans ain't gotta enough.
Nonetheless a warm up.
Like im shooting 33 shots
cnd I didn't miss
characters
$100,000 cars now how you gon laugh at us
(Repeat chorus 2x)
(Juicy J)
First I want to grab a nigga by his neck,
Drag him to my fuckin set,
Take
only time will tell, but until then I'll be stackin' my mail
by album album sells, Magnolia wear dwells
I love them bricks, I love the ghetto hoes
'cause
protection, meant protection
Big old weapon, bottle stare
From the projects, we in Paris
50 wrapped inside the Phantom
Sippin' Fanta out a can
Do you
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