Lyrics:
to see the top, my hood.
[Chorus x2: Dre]
[Hook: Dre]
You gotta love ya hood, you need to love your projects, ay get me, get me.
[Verse 2: Ace Hood]
I
A project minded individual, criminal tactics
Us black kids born with birth defects, we hyperactive
Mentally sex-crazed, dysfunctional, they describe us
phone, just got paged by a curly curly
Hit me on my horn three times if you want the crack
But fool don't be paging me no more for no credit sack
Sipping
presentation as if she were the brains behind it, as if I didn't matter. My coworkers came up to me to pity me and pat me on the back saying, Oh my God!
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
me on
I'm a project, lift me up
Pull me over, pat me down
I'm a object
But I'mma object, stick up
Till you put me down
Make a mess on your block wet
fortunes
Importing weapons
Put it on my beltings
Welp in your skeleton
Like a wicked witch
? ? ? ? see them bail
{project pat}
Be the next nigga to fall
the calendar design
Wilderness tours, guided for and by the blind
Cool ruler standing still sweating through the shades
He knew those lights only grew bright
because I don't need that
OG gas bag 93 like where the seeds at?
Feel like Project Pat on the scene, bitch where the cheese at?
Where that cheese? I need
rap shit
Get blown off the face of the Earth by the G.P. click
Whoever wrote the book on hip hop we revised it
Now adapt to the Shaolin chapter
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
and winning Oscars
Yeah, 365 Mafia, Project Pat, Lyfe Jennings
If you can believe, you can achieve every damn bug
'Round us a good day, yeah
Seventeen years
White paid his dues
Ask who's the raw, bet they say Poppa very
Look forward to me like commissary
All of a sudden, now every-body Big Willie
Done did
White paid his dues
Ask who's the raw, bet they say Poppa very
Look forward to me like commissary
All of a sudden, now every-body Big Willie
Done did
Dis bitch, dat hoe, hoe let me see ya pussy
Dis bitch, dat hoe, hoe let me see ya pussy
Hoe, soakin' fuckin' wet, hoe, soakin' fuckin' wet
Project Pat
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
[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!!!!
Now when they heard who in the club DJ Paul
Bitches chosen up
When they see I'm icy like a slush
Then they frozen up
Like my homie Project Pat
We keep
Stackin' me some grip, playa can ya dig?
Project Pat a nigga that's down for his crown man
If your ass step I'ma be downtown man
4th floor bound man that's
killed my spirit
So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball
I pat myself, teacher said I was a lost cause
'Cause I used to roam them
me in my heart to hear that nigga snitched on Pat
how he go out like that?
Rumors in the hood was ?? was snitchin
I ain't believe that, pa, he
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
Written & arranged by Pat Grady, Phil crtuz, cndy cbercrombie
Recorded/mixed/mastered at Shine Studios by Justin Douglas
Performed by:
Pat Grady - guitars
.jpg/220px-Ryan_Shupe_and_the_Rubberband_(36686728321).jpg "Ryan Shupe & the Rubberband")
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