Lyrics:
su, su, su, su
Them chatty, chatty, chatty
Them su, su, su, su, su (fuck all this pretty Shawn Carter shit nigga, HOV)
Shawn was on that gospel
off your shoulders
(Project Pat)
Mister murderer robbers
Niggas with some charges
You fake mothafuckas
We gonna finish what you started
Yo heart is
y'all be sparkin'
Stray shots, all on the block that stays hot
(If ya fuck with Wu, we gots ta fuck witchu)
Who the fuck knocked our buildings down?
all of y'all niggas full of ca-ca
The way we doin' damage tell me how the fuck you manage
With my niggas who marinate on foul thoughts and think
all of y'all niggas full of ca-ca
The way we doin' damage tell me how the fuck you manage
With my niggas who marinate on foul thoughts and think
Ay, ay, ay, ay
Are y’all all ready for this ride?
Are you all ready for the ride?
I’ma stop playing with they emotions
Plain Pat, let’s go
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
Southside, what y'all niggas know about the dirty south?
One time
[Chorus]
Lord forgive me, for I've sinned
Over
Can my homeboy tell y'all where
The fuck he from?
(Ah yeah)
Can my homeboy tell y'all where the
Fuck he from?
Ayo Cube, let's get this party started
like that, so fuck y'all
We love all hoes, skinny old hoes
Big balled hoes, we dig all those
We like it like that, fuck you
We like it like that,
(Uncle Snoop Dogg.)
Yo' whats up, whats up.
(Could you read us a bedtime story?)
Alright, alright.
Y'all get my ash tray, get my lighter.
right
So while you're still there lookin' stupid in the face
Ya better get lost with ya pat-pat bass
Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-check it out y'all
see your gold shine
Let me see your gold shine
Let me see your gold shine
Let me see your gold shine
Let me see your gold shine
(Project Pat
to tha point
Here, (yesssir) Project Pat album underground album, in stores right now (rite
Now nigga!) what's tha name of that junt? Mista don't playyyy.
Yeah!
Yeah nigga! (It's ya boy Lil Jon right)
You know?
Got my nigga Project Pat right here wit' me!
(What's up boy?)
Memphis Tenn' to da
the motherfuckin' devil shit
Y'all couldn't hang with the motherfuckin' clique
It's just getting thicker for a weak motherfuckin' nigga
Three 6 Mafia (yeah, yeah)
up, throw 'em up)
What? What? What? What? (Get 'em up, get 'em up, get 'em up)
I'm a down south nigga so fuck y'all niggaz
I'm a west coast nigga
they miss when hip-hop was rappin'
Motherfucker, if you did, then Killer Mike'd be platinum
Y'all priorities fucked up, put energy in wrong shit
fuck a mic check
Bring em round the underground, pocket full of sound
Ashes to ashes y'all niggaz goin down
Eat shit and die slow, battle ground
eating, all you haters do is add salt
Stop playing, bitch, I got this game on deadbolt
Mind so sharp, I fuck around and cut my head off
Real nigga all
Oh you, wanna share me tonight
Then call your friend from Georgia Tech
Cuz I enjoy her neck
And I enjoy your breasts
And y'all can fuck me first
keepin' y'all outta the state penitentiary
You can't fuck wit me
(Can't fuck with me)
I don't care about your imagery
(Fuck, nigga)
Give a fuck who
fuck a mic check
Bring em round the underground, pocket full of sound
Ashes to ashes y'all niggaz goin down
Eat shit and die slow, battle ground
from Project Pat, pimpin', got a masters
Girl improvise, look me in my eyes and lie to me
Lie to me, act like I'll believe anything
Sex on the beach
like a shark, the nose call it Pinocchio
Well off, wealthy, LV, logo
Middle of July but the wrist on snowflow
Only do the Aspens, y'all can have
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