Lyrics:
on me (pow)
Woah play a lot (lot)
We rap the same bullshit cause
We can’t say a lot
And if you try to break the rules
You gonna hit the rock (rock)
RIP
gettin' money or ready to die
B-I-G, give a fuck if you Chi-Ali
You got it and you keep it tucked if you be by me
Do the job, better known as the Charles
got me thinking that on god i got to be another Rosa parks
And the bonus march it is a heresy so i'm a need a whole lot of donor arms
Noble hands
southern
It ain't no thinkin' I was playin' I am not frontin
The mentality of a goon, I am not stuntin
Filet mignon with my food stamps
Car cosigned by my
don’t need no rebuttals
Paul Allen, Steve Madden, Pat Bateman
Barry Sanders, Emmitt Smith and Troy Aikman
Its a whole lot of bacon in this
I’m trying
his ass sprayed
First I hit the weed, hit full of red rum, niggah better give me some
Or O'l make your body numb bitch
I thought you knew it was
the motivator
Project buildings, lot of feeling, karma my codefendant
Pot to piss in, not a ribbon, never forgot a Christmas
Father figure not around, that's
and make the (Ugh Ugh) sound
Now you can bounce, slide, drop, giddy up, giddy up
Now you can ride til you feel it hit a nut, hit a nut
Bounce for ya
the 'Noya
That lil zo i be Polo to the floor
Boy, don't act like you don't know
I came up shootin' dice by the dope hole
Throwin' licks, the youngest nigga
thrown in the hole
We chilling in the Trump Towers, onions and soul
Let's roll, cuz when the clock hit, my niggas'll bowl
It's like dice, nigga, open
took one in his face
By somebody he knew
Stretched in the project hallway
Fatal car flipped
He got ejected out the front windshield
Broke most of his
A product, or sharp objects by the projects
And I ain't focused on losin', that's besides us
I'm a bike in a real federally
Come through police chasin' Mel
Yeah, Pimpstead bitch, hold up
Know we on your ass, boy (yeah, check)
Niggas play around 'til it's man down
(You and what army, nigga?)
I'm
ain't compatible, they be fallible
If you wanna challenge me with a battle we better saddle up
I work for battlers,seal it by pittlin pattilin
Tittling
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
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
Stashed under the sole of the sneaker
Smoke the budder same color as The Weeknd uh
Told the driver Lenny swing me by the
Garden I gotta talk to Pat
Hit him
I made a project
Everybody wanna televise it to put me on Dateline
I don't get views when I waste time
Only comes through with the baseline
Look, I
(la-la la-la-la-la-la)
[Verse 1]
Once upon a time in the projects yo
I watched my uncle Greg put D's on his six-fo'
I washed it on Monday so he
little cousin Bubble swatches and carry a couple oxes
Keep a deuce, deuce by his ankle and get it poppin'
You know, we be the boys clockin' the grave yard
the hottest
My little cousin Bubble swatches and carry a couple oxes
Keep a deuce, deuce by his ankle and get it poppin'
You know, we be the boys clockin'
(16th Killer)
I was at the lugger club posting
Right off 85
Right there by Rock Legion Memorial Drive
I had a long week, now it's the weekend
She'd get up and drink coffee
I'd sit back and smoke pot
Never really thought much about it
Never really thought a whole lot
Things are different now
to fill this hole in my heart
And I got nowhere to go, when it all falls down
Got nowhere to run, when it all runs out
Drownin' my sorrows with bottles
Too
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