Lyrics:
Town where I was birthed
Lot of kids got merc'ed young, so we called it Murder Worth
Grew up as an urban kid, Funky Town, Murder Worth
Grew up
who want it like
Yeh
And I got a sick grind cuz I get mine 6-9 and I flip it by the 20 til I got a hunnit 100s like dat
Check
I pull up I move move
I
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
looked more optimistic
The night he picked up them theater tickets
We gave up, so he found his way with a gun
Now Pat, he public enemy number one
By 18
please, oh please
Can I get my food stamps so I can leave
I got money and a car but they dont really know it
Now they asking me a gang of questions coz
the chamber for you weak ass coward)
Don't save her she don't wanna be saved
I'mma introduce me, Project Pat, I keep it real
I'mma introduce you, you's a sucka
Questions questions questions questions
Questions questions questions
All I hear are these questions yeah yah yeah ya
How you, where you going?
in the projects
We all come together to share what we got
No one can stop us not even the cops
Trapping together we drinking drop
My life's a movie I
'm grinning huh
Like I'm project pat but more wit a kodak smile
Stylin on these niggas with fashion that's coming out
In a few seasons believe or stay in denial
got the the youth, I got the Benz
Was gon' cop Bentley but then I got Maybach
That boy ain't no soldier, he act like Pat Sajak
A nigga so fresh that
'm Mista Don't Play though
Raised in the projects so I pat them pockets
My rhymes be like nines when they shoot off like rockets
Straight to the cranium
Should have held back, but you throwed the punch
'Spose to meet your girl but you packed a lunch
No D to the U to the G for you
Got a son on the way by
how many niggas I writes off
I got goons in the trap for the right cost
I watch you leap out then I take a nice loss
I play it raw and I ain't leavin
Project Pat gotta keep a strap, haters know I rap
Wanna shoot me in my gold teeth, blow me off the map
I attack like a shark would represent this hood
North
of the projects
From the day you were born
Street's Disciple
Yeah, disciple of the projects
Plug the mics up, I'm ready to rock, knockin
Reminiscing
to the cha cha with these verses
Comin around the projects make you sleep off in dem hearses
I got a word of wisdom, for those who must resist
You'll be
[Pharoahe Monch]
Yo, I got a question - in hip-hop, who they followin? (Uhh)
The niggaz with skills or them niggaz who be hollerin?
[Prince Poetry]
Them
Man, Project Pat in the house
This go out to all the real niggas out there havin' money
Ghetty green, that cheese, that feddi, that loot
Better
up. Fuck em up.
With the flow I got the potion bih. I got that antidote
Smokin on radish this green like cantaloupe
I changed my status pass plug my
and I don't belong
You're right I don't
Thats why I'm doing this
You don't get it
This boy's got his bliss
I'm an alternative project
Poking my finger in
[Juvenile]
Listen,
It's a fresh package I got - why not move it
Keepin' it in the house 'll have the Feds locked to it
Business as usual is goin'
calm and I know you'll pass middle class
Got me preaching through Qurans Allah know I'm sick of that
But, you hear the pitter pat
It keeps you in your
on the way by the name of Bamboo
Got a little baby girl, four year, Jordan
Never turn my back on my kids for them
Should have hit it, quit it, rag-top
the projects
Still counting money on em
I was counting money right in front the corner store
They was talking rap and I was only talking raw
Way before the deal
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