Lyrics:
Mista Don't Play though
Raised in the projects so I pat them pockets
My rhymes be like nines when they shoot off like rockets
Straight to the cranium
ooh
Get it free naw naw don't pay her
Oh no don't do no favors,
Super Mario game too playa
Project pat boy won't save her
No no can't go,
Know the game
slide
Pullin up to your parents house
It's about to be a homicide
Out side in the bushes
Got me feeling like I'm project pat
Ghetty green up in this blunt
teacher from my home room
Said I wouldn't make it
Stupid bitch I told you you lied
So I called Trae Tha Truth
And I hit Project Pat now
We balling
Thank you Project Pat
I want all the smoke
I want all the smoke
I want all the smoke
I want all the smoke
Repping the good guys always doing bad shit
a family man
This bilal loud
This shit here is a cannon man
Grew up on Project Pat
And Hitman Sammy Sam
Say it wrong
SyN pull up just like lam on lam
Come
out
Lemme pat down for a minute
Put ya glass down
Tryna pass out when I'm in it now
Wasn't long you was mine babe
I was in the wrong on the right day
We
Filled up the bag like bank bank
Told Lil Wyte this one time, and project pat the same thing
I can turn two Ls into a W like bang bang
But Even in
tonight they're eating thoughts and prayers
Racism, Misogyny, uhh, Kidz Bop
By that mean bopping kids, not the music albums
But the act of, uh, molesting
Red laces big booted like I’m Iraq bound
That frown will get you ate by
My cannibal from Sac Town
So relax pal, pat down, gat down, bat down
Blackout
Moment of Truth 3
For those that don't know what a moment of truth be
This whole album's a moment of true heat
Roberto & Danny trying to live what
grassroots resistance to private prisons
Won't lie
Kinda been waiting
Happy Tara taught me the art of documentation
Turned it to an album
It's been 2 years
put you in the right mind
Light shines on my spirit, you just getting side lined
NO 2 your album, something like a nitrite
Man I'm far too smart to go
power
One, to see how they are calling for help
Written By: Nero Project, Nenad Urosevic
go by, so you know I meant it
In school I was so shy, timid
Two pairs of jeans I'd alternate, bummy clothes, I 'member
Beggin' my mom for K-Mart
attacked
6'3 In my duck boots
I'on sneak by, I'on duck dudes
Real nigga, no stunt dude
Neva been sus but I fuck dudes
Yo click mad but I touched two
the night before New Year's, and all through the fuckin' projects
Not a handgun was silent, not even a Tec
Outside as I'm stuck, by enemies who put fear
Thinkin' they can play two notes on a keyboard,
And come up with a song like ours,
Your mixtape stinks like a fart (fart noise),
My album's a slut in
Bucka, bucka, bucka, bucka, bucka, bucka
Ha ha
You know the deal
It's just me, yo
Beats by Su-Primo for all of my people, Negros and Latinos
and our night'll end terrible
I exhale and say, "Fuck it", and I just chose to let it go
Walt went to St. Louis
Had a full ride for his hoopin', him
trickin' and my Tribe
Be on a Quest like Tip and them
On every avenue puttin' the full clip in em
Splittin' and strippin' em down while spittin' a round
Gang
Boy, I start on one, I let y'all know
This gon' be the hardest and realest album y'all heard in a minute
Boy, it still ain't go
Ayy, I'm that
1]
[Chorus 2]
[Yung Joc:]
Hahahahahaha
If you made it to this portion of the album
Give yourselves a round of applause man
I wanna say thank
Cos' we done this befo'
And we been there fo' sho'
But still we instillin' projects
That next Zilla Complex
We got y'all subjects
Necks boppin' full
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