Lyrics:
flappin' niggas
Make 'em suck a dick
Project Pat, I'm in this bitch
Kaze niggas runnin' shit
Which mean you hoes need to
Recognize who you dis
Kidnappin'
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
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
niggas on the project
Shout out the one and only Quake Beats, aka Big Pat Raps
Shout out my nigga Mike from New Orleans
Shout out DV on the track
Shout
on these nigga
H.O.O.D my whole Project got Hittas
Imma show you how I’m rocking you keep playing wit a nigga
Keep on talking out yo top I knock the brains
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
to let it ride
My nigga it's whatever
We can buck it out til ???
Chorus-8x
(Project Pat)
Comin' like a duck a
You know I came for trouble
Some
tryna fly flags
Gonna take over and warm up now
Warm on radio, warm on shows
Warm in the airways, warm on roads
Man better know that it's warm out
slug to your grill
You can feel this
Trigger happy, nappy headed, set it don't you see me
Project Pat is down
But ain't no fuckin' damn fool
We
pat
Heard you hoes been hating
But I'm not really into that
Got my heart broke by someone
That I truly loved
I don't understand why niggas aint
my jack
Your niggas ain't here cause we put them in a pack (pow)
I'm in the field making moves like the Pats
I seen niggas make money off of crack
This
wrong time, God why did Pat have to be right there?
I'm so mad right now
Referring to you, in the past, like how??
You made dad life proud, I'm so sad
Stage shows get messed up, you're hardcore, zippin your dress up
Move on your projects, new shit, that's how I do shit
Word up g, y'all niggas sound
to the ones who ain't coming back
Surrounded by bricks never sold one
But I'm still getting rich I'm a cold one
Walking though the projects
Niggas turn
on
It's dark and gloomy, three pigs on a duty
It's not a fable, it's hood lullabye, where the brothers die
[Hell Razah]
Project playgrounds, death singin'
you at (Where you go)
Where you at (Where you go)
I could buy you anything that you want
Just show me where it's at
Gold teeth like Project Pat
Put you
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
visions in your sleep
The Juice, Project Pat, Lil' Glock & S.O.G
Lord Infamous and Crunchy Black got them gats to your back
Another sweet robbery another
the bitch to EverGreen
throw em in da bayou
call my niggas
D and Blue
Project Pat y'all know what to do
creep through the streets
with them thangs
And niggas don't be tripping, don't
Be doin no drive-bys
Cause we don't gangbang, don't wear blue or red
We like that fucking green and paper's what I said
Big
And niggas don't be tripping, don't
Be doin no drive-bys
Cause we don't gangbang, don't wear blue or red
We like that fucking green and paper's what I said
Big
and the baby and you side by side
We all knew we was in for a long hard ride
Nowhere to run and nowhere to hide it seemed
We honked the horn when we crossed
yeah
Extorted for money and all the fame, yeah
'Cause they don't want us to own shit
A buncha ghetto kids out the projects
If I was made in
this young one
Hooping in the sun, proud to be where I come from
Later shootin guns fantasizing
Fascinated by gold rope chains
Looking back at my hood
Discuss these show by project pat Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In