Lyrics:
So ain't no love in me
Living by da gun ima die by it
I'm right here in da slums nigga come try it
Holding on to my steel
Dey wanna get me killed
will be in stores now
or in stores right after this or sometime close around this
Go get the project pat album that's in stores right now
Cooked by
bowlin ball paper swirl
Gotta trap it white, baller candy bike
I don't light it though get too high
Stay too low
I live by the code, extra credit mode
you
Tryin to pull you blow
Once you waste the freaky slut the first
Thing they gon say is 'What?'
Oh how you get da chewin so
To me it's just ridiculous
a planet I don't recall, at all.
We all people, phones stuck in our hands,
With these gluttons chewin' the fat, what the fuck are they sayin'?
I don't
up listening to Project Pat (Pat)
Dropping hits and selling bitches, my life like Hustle and Flow (Deejay)
Twenty pack of 'za, I got it off when I
bodies are fished out
I'm wreckin' niggas one-by-one but then I miscount
Mispronounced, how do LL bounce
And get ya shit bust? I turn ya faggots into
know
I want to get rid of those faked up hoes
It's the city of Memphis
Watch me witness how this nigga unload
Rage make me regularly, force me
Crunchy Blac, Boogie Mane, Frayser Boy, Lil' Wyte, Chrome
Granddaddy Souf, Juicy J, Project Pat, DJ Paul the king of Memphis
Cock 'em up
and make a killin
Project Pat please tell these motherfuckers how I'm feelin
[Chorus]
the hottest so the
Hottest I deserved the ball
It's that Cocaine Mafia connect
Juicy J, Project Pat, Montana, roger that
I'm a self made man, self made man
I
Big mo, project pat and the whole 3-6
Yea I know about them texas boys
Who keep a liter in the cup, and a heater in the tuck
Think the xanax
momma she can suck a nigga dick!
Straight from the corna, the North is ma hood
I don rode on four flats and it's still all good.
Project Pat is outta
, la-di-da, la-di-da)
Ill wishes comin' from the people you keep closest (ayy, ayy)
Ball like a ringer in that prep uniform ('form)
I guess that worked out
temple for da bag (GimmeDat)
I dont talk alotta trash
I be gettin to da bag
Xannie make me relax
Quit em then I relapsed
We was chewin on Beans
GBs really
like pancake-ahh
Foldin' my cheese like the leaves in my hand rake-ahh
Project Pat-ter
Attracted to dime pieces
I'm dirty southern, French braids,
like pancake-ahh
Foldin' my cheese like the leaves in my hand rake-ahh
Project Pat-ter
Attracted to dime pieces
I'm dirty southern, French braids,
Yeah it's Project Pat up in this thang
Representin' "Layin' the Smackdown", "North North"
Three 6 Mafia fin' a rip it like it's supposed to be flip
shake it like a maraca
Recognize a real Don when you see Juan
Forgive me for my foolishness like Philemon
Couple'a da women dem
Yea they feel a man
I give
fortunate fame
And more importantly, I wanted me a name
The je-wells, the crew-es, the cell
No more projects, the foolish gets well (I'm tired of dat shit)
down and pull a mufuckin' rapper root
Ain't no way you niggas can hide
I can get you in the house I can get you outside
I'm a load da pump up, lay
is
Her specialty, after all hands come up
One by one "Oh my god, Rihmeek, "
Nicki groans exaggeratedly, invoking Meek's
Middle name for effect "Every
nigga with sorrow
That's why I'll never know the secrets of the many double quickly
You'll be givin up dead lay dead, get a ton of burn in the air
By
Or speak on any blocks we spin
Errthang I'm talkin facts I swear to god dis shit is not pretend
I done got crossed by da ones I love i'm thinking to myself
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