Lyrics:
gangsta, new orleans soldier, banging under water,
fuck around and soak ya, lousiana gunner, im bout my holster,
and if you gettin greasy, im an ulcer, im
grill niggas, spit a barbecue
Committing drive-bys out a grey Coupe
When I start drowning rappers, dawg
It ain't cute
Till every person in they group
Turn
with one in your dome
Thirteen years in the projects
My mentality is what, kid?
You talk a good one, but you don't want it
Sometimes I wonder, do I
the match and your body's drenching down with gas
Got the tone to ya head yo life flashing right front your eyes
Blow yo ass off ??
Me and Project Pat toting
[DJ Paul, Project Pat, Juicy J. (Chorus x4)]
Pure Anna for you hoes, Pure Anna for you hoes,
With the - with the hollow-point shells, man,
Man,
learn to steer by the stars
All of us do time in the gutter
Dreamers turn to look at the cars
Turn around and turn around and turn around
Turn around
learn to steer by the stars
All of us do time in the gutter
Dreamers turn to look at the cars
Turn around and turn around and turn around
Turn around
stackin'
Me and my homies tossed your gal
She was a fake ho
Pat I'm on the bread like last year
Nigga know the bizness
Project in this motherfucker
Stacking
[Chorus: x2]
I be reppin' my city
I be grippin' them cities
I be flippin' them pennies
Turn em to good and plenty
I be strokin' that pussy
I be
Six-foot, seven-foot, eight-foot bunch
Six-foot, seven-foot, eight-foot bunch
Ahem, excuse my charisma, vodka with a spritzer
Swagger down pat
the projects
Please don't make me catch a body
Please don't make me catch a body
All white, Yo Gotti
I heard some niggas was tryna rob me
Please don't make me
it
Passing them in age I hope I don't become the ageless
See the dream's on us, there ain't no one to save us
It's our ego that hold us back from being
fo' - do
Any one of my cars or truck made by Lincoln
Peel out on every block - wheel rubber still stinkin
Don't run up on me too quick, you better
Now Asians sayin' they don't keep no cash in they register (hurry up and buy)
We run from red and blue lights to get the green
But whoever got that
the haters pay
You came from the projects and you came from the ghetto
But now it turns out that you're just rich and shallow
Your friends and your family made
[Intro: Project Pat]
Yes sir hypnotized mutherfuckin minds my boy Lil Wyte
about to put it down for you mutherfuckin hoe's just
like this it's goin
romantic
Ten and twenty, you come by the droves
Don't be scared to take off your clothes
If you're really short, get on your tippy toes
And remember,
everything around me
CREAM, get the money)
Starvin' out here, yo
(Dolla dolla bill, y'all)
I grew up on the crime side
The LA Times-side
Wrong turn might mean
Don't turn the radio down!
(We want the music loud!)
Don't turn the radio down!
(We want to mess around!)
We feel like dancin' (Hey!)
We want
the streets wanna
Nigga in a deep grave
Look around and all
I see is deep asleep slaves
Wake up and find
Your purpose
Don't ever think that
Your mind is
Project Baby
Section 8
On the corner boy
I won't sugar coat, I let the whole world know
Where would I be if I didn't run these streets
If I
Only On The Westside Fool
Surrounded By Section 8 Houses And The Projects
A Place Where You Make The Wrong Turn, You're Gettin Robbed At
We All
rape your body, dump it in the river
Turn myself in then, beat the case for it then
Turn around and put "I really did it" on my Twitter
Uhh, I'm
decimal, I need seven figures to play the joint
Turn up your decibels, peep how I decimate a joint
Check out my projects like them workers that Section 8
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