Lyrics:
gangster, I respect the jooks
We buyin' big boy mansions, they respect the crooks
This for my project niggas and blue Benzes
Mercedes emblems with they
that
LUMBERJACK PAT
They call me Lumberjack Pat
Lumber Lumberjack Pat
When I yell out timber
Ya'll best fucking step back
Where I am its going down
the grass, now I see the grams out
Like I'm Project Pat, I ain't giving handouts
I'm loving her
She be running for a sandwich
Bitch hit the curb i'm hustling
and we like to cross
Who's the boss is the man
Standing round the chock line
Growin old with his wife and
Kids didn't do time (Project Pat)
Keep a trick
Written & arranged by Pat Grady, Phil crtuz, cndy cbercrombie
Recorded/mixed/mastered at Shine Studios by Justin Douglas
Performed by:
Pat Grady - guitars
We the motherfuckin' best
You haters can't stop me, I'm a franchise
You're now rockin' with the best, put your hands high
Do it, do it, I'ma
The projects is full of bullets, though bodies is droppin'
There ain't no stoppin' me
Constantly movin' while makin' millions
Witnessin' killings, leavin'
know
I get your ass gone permanently
It ain't complex
I'll just bang holes or you're ablin' to ask who next
Do a drive-by on your project, take
La da da, the look of lust, yo, yo
Pleasure is a must
I'm sleepin' here with lust
Scenes of ménages with Asian massages
Sin is the scent of my
righteous motherfuckers with they flags out?'
Stapleton Projects, recognize you're lookin at
Allah's best, puttin on the hits is no contest
NOW, who
thousands seen early graves
Victims of worldly ways, memories stays engraved
All my live brothers, is locked down with high numbers
The young hunger,
he sell techs, and he sell D"
The balla by the bar saying
"Everybody drink, the best champagne
It's all on me"
Snitch in the back of the police car
Crunchy Blac, Boogie Mane, Frayser Boy, Lil' Wyte, Chrome
Granddaddy Souf, Juicy J, Project Pat, DJ Paul the king of Memphis
Cock 'em up
yeah
Tryna hold me hostage, oh, yeah, yeah
(yeah, uh)
This is God's test, oh, yeah, yeah (yeah, uh)
This is for the projects, oh, yeah, yeah
(yeah, uh)
best chill
Before you wake up with some gangsters in your grill and get killed
By a nigga named Big Phil, tote a big steel
Give a damn if my record
haven't been to the Houston rodeo,
Sang "Carry On" at a Pat Green show,
If you ain't seen an Abilene sunset,
Then you ain't met My Texas yet.
If you never
have it
So by any means
Ima keep her happy
Project baby
Project baby
Daddy was gone
So my mama raised me
Mama went got it
So her babies can have it
Get numbers, get names
Thick dames
Headhunters get brains
Big thangs
Give niggas shitstains
The shit, man
And don't you forget, man.
We be
The best
like taa-dow
Biggie Smalls the illest and how, frays raise your eyebrow
By now you figure, he talkin' 'bout that nigga
But your weak-ass assumptions,
like taa-dow
Biggie Smalls the illest and how, frays raise your eyebrow
By now you figure, he talkin' 'bout that nigga
But your weak-ass assumptions,
I got them rocks to get you high but you twenty short
A newport is all I can give ya' player
So push on project pat ain't no perpetrater
A fighter with my back against wall
Took a lighter, left my name in the hall
Young!
Grew up on Lexington Ave, my socks real high
Moved to the Marcy Projects
a beretta
Need y'all to run it back, boo, where the dollars at?
When I'm off that liquor, I feel like I'm Project Pat
Bitch, you really, really wack,
gettin steamed
Gotta find a way, to get accepted by my peers
So now I'm sippin on beers
Buyin new gear, nuthin but the best
Forget Levi's strictly Polo
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