Lyrics:
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
and got ah sack and grabbed a smith and western
Looked at the projects like I got us ima be a legend
Look in the mirror like I'm tired of stressing
If
(What's up, Jay Rock?) Shit, just the same old same old
Same fiends in the hood, chasing the best dope
Project hustling, chasing them pesos
It's
This time around, I don't know what to say no more
This time around, I don't know if I can stay no more
I wanna bring us back, but don't know what
[Chorus 4x]
[Project Pat]
Fuck around and get gun end, straight up out the pen
From the mane with the sawed-off, lay up off the Gin
You can win if you
presidents or something man
You know what I'm sayin a nigga
Got to get straight around this mother fucker
Niggas got that mutha fuckin shit
Don't wanna share
ravaged by the dogs
'Cause there's a system
And my black-ass just don't fit in, oh I get it
Shit is a race game, and this game is hopeless
From the 60s
you like a princess
Okay, so what?
That don't make you my girlfriend
Even if the world ends
Even if yours is circled around me
I want you in the worst
you like a princess
Okay, so what?
That don't make you my girlfriend
Even if the world ends
Even if yours is circled around me
I want you in the worst
Oh shit! Pat's at it again
Making White folk mad in a panicky bend
Best of luck, if had a fuck
Wouldn't give it up
For the feelings of the children
fresh ma
Ma, I don't shop what the rest by
Oh no ma please respect ma
Jiggy this is probably purple label
Or that BBC or it's probably tailored
But
fresh ma
Ma, I don't shop what the rest by
Oh no ma please respect ma
Jiggy this is probably purple label
Or that BBC or it's probably tailored
But
down
Uh Aye
Choppas they leaving a sound
Ain't leaving no one around
We leave em' dead on the ground
Too many sticks in the club
We walk in no pat get
off ya whole spot
Let a clip off and more shots
Niggas love Big Poppa, they wish Big around
Cuz I don't let them eat I
Lay my muscle game down
Imagine
It's going down going down
Three 6 Mafia mafia
Project Pat y’all know the business
Imma tell you motherfuckers something man
Some real shit tell 'em
Guinness
POW niggaz is found MIA
We move like the special forces, green beret
Heavily around my throat, I don't play
Shit brand new, back in
around 'bout the fam crossing all the fakes out
I can tell by the sound that you never did
Never did nothing never turn nothing to something
And I be
gray but they'll turn out
Live to see you one day, hope you're around
In my prime, I'll give everyone everything they wanted
From my wallet
Don't know
around and let me pat you down
Let me pat you down
When I get in the club they was being real Crunk
Like Lil Jon
Like Lil Jon
So I walk through the club
Born to win
Look around
From the projects to the penthouse
Our vision never changed, we self made
Count that up
Self made self paid man
P-I
around
We gonna come up with new sounds, new sounds
And we don’t come with no frowns, come with no frowns
And I’m ‘bout to turn it around, turn it around
Ain't nobody fit to do shit important
People really don't give no fuck about nothing
Although they may smile and be cordial
Dealin' around with the wrong
a nigga black and blue
Like a pair of Pennys
While me and Betha, throw fiesta, by alma queta
Chicqueta, monero, nieta
Don't ever fuck around with
Real nigga files (Hell yeah)
Project files (Yes sir)
(Everything 1k, dawg, yeah)
(Institution, for real man)
(You gotta stand firm, dawg
You gotta
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