Lyrics:
of my city
Ghetto… nigga from the projects
Talk it and I did it
I was born in 92 but I’m the 23 of my city
Got my homies here wit me
Gotta bad bitch by
back pocket
I grab you by your neck,
I pull it out a socket
Range, Range, Range,
Rover, Rover, Rover,
Blow this fuckin' task
Police pull me over
But I
house
Bottle girls hit my section we bout cash out
I brought my blicky to the club fuck a pat down
She want shots I give her shots I Blow her back out
Nouvel method pou tout sa kap aprann
Pou sak pat atann, e pou sak pat ka tann
It’s Cliowen time, nigga black wattaguan!!!
Written By: Clifford Wendy
feelin' it
I'm the realest nigga that she been with it
I'm the realest nigga that she been with it
Niggas just talk but I'm livin' it (Project Pat)
I
It's a Panarama in the driveway
Feds watching, we in the projects
They know we ain't posed to be driving that
Fucking the natnats and alley cats
Trap
nag
Her ex keep calling
Nigga miss his boo
I was that nigga til I ran up the loot
Fresh new wheats
Ran it up wit out boot
Had to do it by my lonely
Hit my jit
I can't count the check
Way to many notes up in my hands like I orchestrate
I just need my money by the first not a second late
I
I got a diamond tester in the back
All of my gold shine, Project Pat
She want relations, I don't interact
Vivienne West bag on my back
Fuckin' this
Yeah, ninety-six, for my Nordstrom Ave niggas
My Fulton Street niggas (hardcore for ninety-six)
Dangerous MC's
Uhh (check it out) uhh
Diamonds
Yeah, ninety-six, for my Nordstrom Ave niggas
My Fulton Street niggas (hardcore for ninety-six)
Dangerous MC's
Uhh (check it out) uhh
Diamonds
Yeah, Hypnotize Minds, Project Pat
We just want y'all to dance with us man
Y'all know what it is, it's goin' down
Motorcycle with it, with it
cause racks I get that
And I got songs with real OG's
Shout out to my Nigga Project Pat
Got love for me people all my cars are black
Keep it real solid
posted up at the bar, having a Mazel Tov
Bullet whizzed right by my ear, damn near shot it off
Thank God I'm alive, I gotta find Denaun
And where
posted up at the bar, having a Mazel Tov
Bullet whizzed right by my ear, damn near shot it off
Thank God I'm alive, I gotta find Denaun
And where
for this
I swear I get it off the love
Louisiana nigga you can tell
By my mothafuckin' grammar
I swear I got 3 hoes with
Me just like I'm Santa
These
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
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
and clothes
Eating popcorn, and drinking
And drinking all damn day
Problem when you was eating the shit
Lickin' yo fingers and shit
(Project Pat) i don't
slingin powder sacks, I'm where them dollars at
Till I holler back at niggas that sip more syrup than Project Pat
Now I fuck with Rap-A-Lot, I hit
broham brochacho got your back
Only if its your spot though so no chat
Go splat go pat go pat go pat go pat
Go DJ... oh wait that's me
Go DJ oh wait its p
This yo course niggas
Say none of that sucka duck ass shit
Nigga it's that real street music
Project Pat
Hear you guys scream, HAM in the streets
I
I'm bout' this cheese, fuck the fame, you can go to hell
With that shit, got's to get what I can, back on these bricks
Project Pat, suicidal
I'm bout' this cheese, fuck the fame, you can go to hell
With that shit, got's to get what I can, back on these bricks
Project Pat, suicidal
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