Lyrics:
ain't have a 9 on me, they was lyin' on me
Court day with my old bird, they was spyin' on me
Tried to set me up, plantin' coke in my pocket
The beast pat
(My resume)
(Y'all go check my resume)
(I swear I turned it in)
(You ain't get it?)
(Alright, I'ma send it back in, hold on)
Adda-Ri, Adda-Ree,
Going
true to you, darlin', in my fashion
Yes, I'm always true to you, darlin', in my way
I enjoy a tender pass
By the boss of Boston, Mass
Though his
Green, Project Pat
Two Ps, triple oh
Three 6 mafia
Pouring up some coffee-yuh
I went pescatarian
I make a mean tilapia
Rosemary and cumin
My flows
Masked up like an infamous bandit
Quarter for the 40 nigga ask that's it?
If I'm not at ya bitch crib I'm in transit
Stones Pat $wazy they dirty
the white guts
I'm on the scene, drankin' lean, mixed with Spire in a plastic cup
I'm from the hood, call it North, where Project Pat went to jail and court
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
Aye can you throw on some shit my dad would listen to?
Just cause I love you, don't mean that I won't deceive you
Or be deceived by evil
I promise
I need a project bitch
I feel like Project Pat
On that Six Mafia shit
I need a moonlight bitch
Daydream when I'm with my bitch
Don't know what loving
Kinda hard it’s kinda hard
Kinda hard it’s kinda hard
Kinda hard it’s kinda hard
To keep your shit in check kind hard
To keep your shit in check kind
account
Dawg I got a vault
And you got my name in your mouth by the gulp
I withstand all that, give me
My check and respect, i demand all that
Before I (pop
doe-she-doe
Why must I pimp the ho?
Nothing but the mack in me
(Nothin' nothin' but the mack in me)
Check it
Ho
(Do the ho catcher)
Ho
(Do the ho catcher)
(Ho
soul seachin
Still strollin these clubs with no purpose
Stay in the mall and won't purchase
Straight boostin
Bad checks or they leasin they mouth
Robbers
cast the check
You sell blunt weed, Glock block, horizons
Niggas in the projects find ya hypnotizing
You clowns know when I bring forth the heat
bounce to the ounce!
"More bounce, to the ounce"
Check it now hip hip hooray'n, check what I am sayin
You'll be happy like a faggot in jail, when Heav
the pain
Because we comin down and my little boys gone wreck
We comin down, yellow broads we puttin hoes in check
(?) (20:55)
Here we goin and the sweets
[Incomprehensible]
Queens, New York City
Microphone check one, two, one, two
East coast, west coast, this is how we do
Get your hustle on, yeah
Practiced in the heat, in the rain or in pain
Mick so quick, at six foot six
Down to be picked by anyone but the Celtics
Oh what a handle could score from
to spend in prison yards so
I gotta answer when he call again
Run up a check on these niggas
Watch how I flex on these bitches
Run up a check on these
forward on the world people get fact checks
But it's late to be true cause the mass got wrecked
Polarized in our views like it's written by Shakespeare
Next
BITCH YOU GONNc GET PEELED
Call my nigga Project Pat
Dog I got them ends
I need 20's, Navigation 500 S Benz
Real quick, can I flip the script?
I wanna be
BITCH YOU GONNc GET PEELED
Call my nigga Project Pat
Dog I got them ends
I need 20's, Navigation 500 S Benz
Real quick, can I flip the script?
I wanna be
be trippin dont be doin no drive-bys
Cause we dont gangbang, dont wear blue or red
We like that fuckin green, papers what I said
Big Moe wassup, in
the blue bills it match the denim
I got this dope ass fade and line up 'round the projects
By Triple H he got heroin hard and haircuts
Dog food (this shit
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