Lyrics:
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
around
Your parents ain't around, and plus your room is packed
I'ma hit it from the front, I'ma hit it from the back, bust it like a gat, pat pat
Kissin'
ounce
Head into your momma room so I can hear that naughty sound, don't play around
Your parents ain't around, and plus your room is packed
I'ma hit it
second dimension
Pensively persisting to project by permission
Allowing alleged allies to gain excessive admission
Demoralizing degenerates by this quick
like you don't notice it
I don't blame you, Cheech & Chong I'd be smoking shit
Rap tight cobra grip, game's over with
Pat Stay is definitely one of,
Stay be turning up, turning up
You couldn't believe we turning up
Now turn me up
Everybody around me on cocaine and angel dust
If anybody play
We brrrt
a Tec, Kel-Tec
Shoot you in your stomach, make this shit hard to digest
Rockstar, listening Jimi Hendrix in the projects, yeah
I'ma turn a nigga block
But niggas finding a passion
And everybody I come around don't got some
Been tried all my life, search, where you hear this song from?
This nigga wasn't
endz
Playin' no games, ya hear me?
ya hear me?, ya hear me?
yeah, niggas like, Triple 6
DJ Paul, Juicy J, (breathes and hisses)
Gangsta Boo, Project Pat
(Project Pat)
North Memphis, South Memphis, Westwood, Orange Mound
Niggas ain't barrin' that bullshit make niggas clown
Down with the shit called
to rep his set right
Now in solitary doing push ups by his bedside
All he want is a green dot, this homie keeping himself fly
Don't come around without
[Intro]
Yuh
You gotta feel this (that's right)
Nahm sayin'
You make enemies, turn your back on a playa (huh)
What's up Blunty
[Hook: Fat Pat
to spill
I give off the impression it's no thing for us to kill
Around the way with, street corner game, Pat Sajak
Got kids to feed, you can't stop
blinded by the dark I raise hell till the day I see the light
Wishing eloquent rhymes would counter venomous strikes
I'm sipping Henny with sprite
Hoping
(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
saying, "Go Pu'!"
I flip a style from the projects building 70 apartment 6C
I turn food stamps to green stamps rough power amps
and sold weed under
forces, green beret
Heavily around my throat, I don't play
Shit brand new, back in eighty-nine, the same way
The God P walk with a limp see, but simply
with your thumb
I don't really care if you don't like me What, you think I'm a tool cause you got
struck by a damn bolt of lightning
Smoke a joint, I
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
And I done see these bitches do
It all for the paper
And I done see this paper turn
My dog to a hater for the love of the money
The love of the dough
hang around we ain't even let you in the basement
And I don't rock no hand me downs but I be in my cousin shit
Know my closet mad cause when I walk in it
Of listening to the sound of my tears
(Turn around) every now and then I get a little bit nervous
That the best of all the years have gone by
(Turn around
inadvertently to make a daily profit
Aiming to be, a new technology prophet
I deposit funds, into revolutionary projects
As a human with a vision who's invested
of my money don't do no fraud
I say black lives matter, but ion really fuck with people
Smoke a wood all by myself and i get higher then a eagle
And this
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