Lyrics:
(Project Pat)
North Memphis, South Memphis, Westwood, Orange Mound
Niggas ain't barrin' that bullshit make niggas clown
Down with the shit called
Stay be turning up, turning up
You couldn't believe we turning up
Now turn me up
Everybody around me on cocaine and angel dust
If anybody play
We brrrt
second dimension
Pensively persisting to project by permission
Allowing alleged allies to gain excessive admission
Demoralizing degenerates by this quick
endz
Playin' no games, ya hear me?
ya hear me?, ya hear me?
yeah, niggas like, Triple 6
DJ Paul, Juicy J, (breathes and hisses)
Gangsta Boo, Project Pat
[Intro]
Yuh
You gotta feel this (that's right)
Nahm sayin'
You make enemies, turn your back on a playa (huh)
What's up Blunty
[Hook: Fat Pat
a Tec, Kel-Tec
Shoot you in your stomach, make this shit hard to digest
Rockstar, listening Jimi Hendrix in the projects, yeah
I'ma turn a nigga block
But niggas finding a passion
And everybody I come around don't got some
Been tried all my life, search, where you hear this song from?
This nigga wasn't
to rep his set right
Now in solitary doing push ups by his bedside
All he want is a green dot, this homie keeping himself fly
Don't come around without
to spill
I give off the impression it's no thing for us to kill
Around the way with, street corner game, Pat Sajak
Got kids to feed, you can't stop
blinded by the dark I raise hell till the day I see the light
Wishing eloquent rhymes would counter venomous strikes
I'm sipping Henny with sprite
Hoping
(What's up, Jay Rock?)
Shit, just the same old same old
Same fiends in the hood, chasing the best dope
Project hustling, chasing them pesos
It's
saying, "Go Pu'!"
I flip a style from the projects building 70 apartment 6C
I turn food stamps to green stamps rough power amps
and sold weed under
forces, green beret
Heavily around my throat, I don't play
Shit brand new, back in eighty-nine, the same way
The God P walk with a limp see, but simply
hang around we ain't even let you in the basement
And I don't rock no hand me downs but I be in my cousin shit
Know my closet mad cause when I walk in it
And I done see these bitches do
It all for the paper
And I done see this paper turn
My dog to a hater for the love of the money
The love of the dough
of my money don't do no fraud
I say black lives matter, but ion really fuck with people
Smoke a wood all by myself and i get higher then a eagle
And this
inadvertently to make a daily profit
Aiming to be, a new technology prophet
I deposit funds, into revolutionary projects
As a human with a vision who's invested
turn around and snatch your sack
Before I came out niggas was wearing slack
I brought the curl back and the golf hat
The black poker sack and this
on the foe sleeping on the floor
When I'm on the go shit to stear
Know one around or near
Not a soul to slug a beer
Turn-over rate soft stomach date
I'm
Ain't nobody fit to do shit important
People really don't give no fuck about nothing
Although they may smile and be cordial
Dealin' around with the wrong
Of listening to the sound of my tears
(Turn around) every now and then I get a little bit nervous
That the best of all the years have gone by
(Turn around
to get Project Pat caught up in this shizurb
Since you niggaz hate, then your plan didn't wizork
On that ATL tattle tale to my bizurbs
Say you saw me with
[Chorus - Project Pat]
In the hood stackin funds
Got me feelin real pimpish
Purple kush in my lungs
Got me feelin real pimpish
Got carrots in
I'm feelin' freak nasty
You wanna smack me?
Don't put it past me
I say it brashly
I talk so trashy
So baby come here sit
I'll turn around, bend down
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