Lyrics:
rock
Threw it off my project roof, saw red dots
Kanye, shine a light on my Wallabees
You can have a good time with G.O.D
Shake that body, party that bod
address,
What the fuck do you think that says?
Thanks a lot for fuckin’ with my head!
[Chorus]
No return address,
Thanks for this mess,
That you left,
Hole
jocking, tell by the look on they faces
8 digits I'm clocking, a lot of gold in my bracelet
7 figures on watches, I told my mama I made it
Made a deal for
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
check me out
Just check me out
IG hit my personals can't post or show
Say not for sale
See through packs, you know it smell cashapp or cash I don't do
it
Great grandma still live in the projects
All my family still used to the violence
I’m telling little Shawty
I got it
Them hating niggas Know
I got
the projects, oh!
Get my numbers right, grams you gotta measure
It’s snowing outside, I’m on the job in any weather
Ninja Turtle, crack, Rock Steady, BeBop
Oh
to nineteen five
I'm talking fish scale white for these green guys
A lot of niggas say they dope, but these niggas fake
And break it down, then compress it
on a nigga
Sounds easier to me than counting backwards from two
Bring the hood peace, you expect it by the Benzes
Shell catch an iron, you ain't pressured
These rappers are home-runs or hole-in-ones cause some are really one-hit wonders
They used to be popping and now they went ghost, what happened to them
And now things changin' a lot, he fuck with my authority
Then he shall see shells
But not by the seashore if he gangbangin' or not
It's simple
a big shot, motherfucker couldn't stop ya
Then ya went ta runnin' 'round tha project with them junkies
Holes in your shoes, and your body all funky
mind flashing like a blade.
A 22 year old in flip flops running around in an empty mall parking lot lost in a martial arts fantasy,
it looks ridiculous
the vocab
I'm a cold ak
And I smoke pack
For you lot I'm a cool dude
Smoking blunts with the gang
Four man
It's a mood
You're all sad and you're smoking
balance
They tip the scale now it's no more silence
The hole in the ozone layer is outta control
But they want to fight for more oil and gold
tend to write
(Suck) are standard, I set the standard, try to
Stand in my stance, ran it by you, graphed the
Diagram, slide with a slant rhyme from my
as a youth I was so hateful
These days, I just hate me more
These snakes, are braver and braver
Sweepstakes, who's dying this year
Will it be by my hand or by
night, I was in the bed, eyes red
Thinkin' about project pat, and what the fuckin jury said
Givin' him what they gave him, then they put him in handcuffs
We used to drink that shit away
Now it don't hit the same
You called that girl your wife now, She don't feel the same
But whose to blame this just
whole donkey (Donkey)
Bullshit, slime stay on it (I'm a slime)
Stick on my side like my sideline (Sideline)
Pull up in your hood, that's a drive-by
it
Not off codeine
I'm a monster I don't need no mean mug
Boy I'm so mean
Know a white boy hit you in your top
His profession is fair to me
I hate
thrown in the hole
We chilling in the Trump Towers, onions and soul
Let's roll, cuz when the clock hit, my niggas'll bowl
It's like dice, nigga, open
to the A, smoother than jazz tracks, yeah
So when I'm browsing through your housing projects
Niggas get 5,000 shit is rough
Time to close I hit you with
gave us pork and pig intestines
Shit you discarded that we ingested, we made the project a wave
You came back, reinvested and gentrified it
Took
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