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the intro until the outro Killa Hill projects, hi-tech street intellect Best connect, blow your headset, fuck a mic check Bring em round
Projects Intro: family’s priceless, say that I’m the nicest You can’t come an kick it only real ones invited, My life is private, that’s the way I
Shout out, to my man Lil Flip Big Mo, Project Pat and the whole three six Yea, I know about them Texas boys Who keep a liter in the cup, and a heater in
that It's the gold teeth, French braids, call me Project Pat With the stocking cap, Jason mask on, probably strapped It's the Rocky cap, turn my swag
[Intro] Salutation, Joe Budden here (WOO!) I be your host tonight for this evening, you know (WOO!!!) Dubb be with the banger, Webb, Nitty, holla
[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
talking} Project Pat, Koopsta Knicca, The motherfucking Tear da Club up Thugs, GangstaBoo, Indo G, its on. You motherfucking hooooooooooooooooooe!!!!
where yo biggies at They wanted me locked playing pity pat Mafia vibe project pat In the field no names attached You a 6 9 you a known rat Top down I
like taa-dow Biggie Smalls the illest and how, frays raise your eyebrow By now you figure, he talkin' 'bout that nigga But your weak-ass assumptions,
like taa-dow Biggie Smalls the illest and how, frays raise your eyebrow By now you figure, he talkin' 'bout that nigga But your weak-ass assumptions,
(Intro) Foamposites, ferrogamo, black tee and i'm iced out They know my name like mike jones you can see a nigga with the lights out Young nigga got
[Intro: Ghostface Killah] Uh huh, ba-by, ba-by, uh, it's goin' down This is that muthafuckin' nigga (off the sound) Yeah, uh, bulletproof
*Intro* Yeah it's yo' boy Project Pat up in this thang this go out to all hustlers In the Dirty South, Midwest, East Coast, West Coast Err'body with
[Intro] Salutation, Joe Budden here (WOO!) I be your host tonight for this evening, you know (WOO!!!) Dubb be with the banger, Webb, Nitty, holla
and they ain't get blunted Had the whole projects workin for fifty on five-hundred As a youth, all I ever did was sell crack I used to idolize cat Hurt
[Intro] Our society is fucked up, they're fucking our brothers and sisters up These white motherfuckers have fucked us up... This ain't by no
up listening to Project Pat (Pat) Dropping hits and selling bitches, my life like Hustle and Flow (Deejay) Twenty pack of 'za, I got it off when I
(Intro) In the words of Curtis blow. Up in the Bronx where the people are fresh. Was born a funky drummer who had to pass a test. Now he's
Written & arranged by Pat Grady, Phil crtuz, cndy cbercrombie Recorded/mixed/mastered at Shine Studios by Justin Douglas Performed by: Pat Grady - guitars
you ain't ever gonna jack the sound (Nope) It's too original, a science how I have it down (Yeah) Down pat, baby I can see right through the praise from
Yeah yeah, uhh, uh-huh Brand Nubian, yeah yeah, check it Intro/Chorus: You don't have to drive a fancy car Just for you to be
[intro] Yeah,Syndicate's in the house Yeah,Geto Boys in the house Yeah,Donald D's in the house Yeah,Body count's in the house Yeah,Zulu Nation's in
to maintain your course Through the potholes and gravel Hot holes and what have you, tryin' to clock dough Foes tryin' to pop shots through you by code Pigs
get blunted Had the whole projects workin for fifty on five-hundred As a youth, all I ever did was sell crack I used to idolize Cat Hurt me in my
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