Lyrics:
to H-Town, connectin' SouthSide
Now we worldwide, watch me highside
Fat Pat blowin' killa, can't be denied
187 thugs, oh yeah we got love
Blowin' sticky green
to H-Town, connectin' SouthSide
Now we worldwide, watch me highside
Fat Pat blowin' killa, can't be denied
187 thugs, oh yeah we got love
Blowin' sticky green
at night, tossing and turning
Underneath his pleated quilt protector, tears welling in his eyes as he
Pictured Marsha, her sworn vows overcome by liquor
tossing and turning
underneath his pleated quilt protector, tears welling in his eyes as he
pictured Marsha, her sworn vows overcome by liquor
And lived happily enough
Until the day that I was born
And things got rather tough
Baptized by Father Reilly
I was rushed away by car
To be made a little
on designed by me
I'm fuckin' her good she tell me don't stop
I'm in the crib with my feet up
Cup full of Pat no Cleo
She gone suck so it ain't no clean up
Drop
on my neck, chrome drop-top
Chillin' on the scene, smokin' pounds of green
Oooh-wee, you see, the ugliest
Money-hungriest, Brooklyn Loch Ness
Nine
little niggas got more money than you fuck niggas man, I promise
I got so much, quarter million, little nigga I was nineteen
Had my hustle down pat I
So much, so much, so much
Quarter million, little nigga, I was nineteen
Had my hustle down pat, I did the right thing
They don't move that fast,
on my neck, chrome drop-top
Chillin' on the scene, smokin' pounds of green
Oooh-wee, you see, the ugliest
Money-hungriest, Brooklyn Loch Ness
Nine
Big mo, project pat and the whole 3-6
Yea I know about them texas boys
Who keep a liter in the cup, and a heater in the tuck
Think the xanax
on the piano
Good mornin' Joe
Can't go home if you're goin' by the mill
'Cause the bridge washed out at the bottom of the hill
The big creek's up
the city cop
I play 'em like Pitty Pat, yeah, I'm kicking back, yeah
I'm getting stacks, these bitches is really rats
I fuck 'em and give 'em back, yeah,
the city cop
I play 'em like Pitty Pat, yeah, I'm kicking back, yeah
I'm getting stacks, these bitches is really rats
I fuck 'em and give 'em back, yeah,
So much, so much, so much
Quarter million, little nigga, I was nineteen
Had my hustle down pat, I did the right thing
They don't move that fast,
Probaly aint. They've now been finessed by the system.
I rock bling so mine ain't impressed by no niggas.
Who step into my office.
Like Pat That's my
Seen traffic hope it goes green
Known this since OD been on rotation, growing
With the pen game, tracing OGs old CDs and changing flows
Keeping it lowkey
1998, Dogghouse Records steps on the scene
Unlike any other record label, we plan to get green
And keep it clean and stay oh, so mean
So rough, so
Kwakiutl! Kik!
Some of theserather taratasters
trapped hyra tchere thaped
the anadondak ram ma lat
round by Krul to Pat the lat
rat
to teach
Your wife a thing or two
Come here to this illegal place for joys
And teach your wife this way to grow new boys
I'll take you by your hand
And show
She wanted to fuck
But I do not know her
I get to the green
Aint talkin bout Yoda
I'm sipping on wocky
Mix it wit the soda
I’m smoking on gas
You can
cared for by John Doe
You'd be better off just giving up
You'll get a pat on the back when you get a patio
I try not to get so negative sometimes, but I
cared for by John Doe
You'd be better off just giving up
You'll get a pat on the back when you get a patio
I try not to get so negative sometimes, but I
Yeah it's Project Pat up in this thang
Representin' "Layin' the Smackdown", "North North"
Three 6 Mafia fin' a rip it like it's supposed to be flip
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