Lyrics:
Niggas catchin bodies in the project hallways
Project hallways, the project hallways
Project hallways, the project hallways
Step in to my
Living in the projects
Living in the projects
Living in the projects
Broke, with no lights on
Living in the projects
Living in the projects
Living in
the original finger smith
Your neighborhood pick-pocket no afraid fi talk it
What is his occupation a big finger smith
A pick pocket tycoon with a healthy
A.D Is Ticket
And that's on C.B.L Crowbar life
Project baby
Project baby
Daddy was gone
So my mama raised me
Mama went got it
So her babies can
that zone
Little Tasha, eight months, and got a baby by the neighborhood chump
Who'd rather smoke blunts, then bring home lunch
Young ones bustin'
on the project roof, ready to leap (woo)
I want to stop the pain or the bad situation (uh-huh)
But backwards wisdom I can't afford to give 'em (yeah)
on the project roof, ready to leap (woo)
I want to stop the pain or the bad situation (uh-huh)
But backwards wisdom I can't afford to give 'em (yeah)
it low key though we clearly up
Ma whole MO to be calm and healthy
Every track that I’m on to be the bomb, so help me God
And why am I wired as such
saying goodbye to
Freedom, true love and our project
All at once, all at once
I need time to dry my eyes
It feels like I am saying goodbye to
Freedom,
discharged and
It's check out time
They don't give a fuck if I am dead alive
They just want their money
'cause they're getting by
My neighborhood ain't healthy
of the projects
From the day you were born
Street's disciple
Yeah, disciple of the projects
Moonstruck stuck, slow as molasses in my actions
That's
Growin up I was a knucklehead
Boy you never listen to me!
Thats what my momma said
Im from the projects i ain't never had shit
Me and my older
meanings
When it comes to this boy I'm lost in my feelings
Last project boy I aired out buisness
Now my mama think I need some therapy sessions
Every
dreams within
Son on my chest, knocked out, he know his Dad gon' win
Catch a sale before 9am? That's a good morning
Ride my bike through the neighborhood
out here facing eternal destruction
Neighborhood music we play at the function
Like fuck is you saying no time for discussion
They want to hear some
I Wanna Get Away
Written by J.Robinson III, J. Holliday
I wanna get away but there's no place to go
Cause everybody's neighborhood is turning
confront me for it
This is the story of a warrior, I know you know it
True warriors go ahead and make some noise (yeah)
It ain't healthy to be makin'
One time for my city, dis for Da Nawf
Uptown to downtown, I luv both
Every project, every neighborhood
It's Da Nawfside, and it's all good
One time
girls spread out and drop seeds like they're farmers
They're old as their momma's, the same age as their aunt
And the neighborhood drunk men and that
But wooo I knew better
Salvador
Afraid to leave the projects
To cross into another neighborhood
The blancos and the nigger gangs
Well they'd kill
these images still relevant
Flickerin' lights inside my project hall
Sickenin', the mice crawl all night long
And '87 Reaganism, many pages I've
(Project pat) man, I'm tired of this shit
You need to get yo shit, and get
(La Chat) Fuck you
You get yo muthafuckin shit
I don't give a fuck who
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
has spent most other
Nights this year the building is
Hidden in a residential neighborhood
Behind a high
Automatic gate the room reeks of
Berry-flavored
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