Lyrics:
Shout out, to my man Lil Flip
Big Mo, Project Pat and the whole three six
Yea, I know about them Texas boys
Who keep a liter in the cup, and a heater in
Mm hm
Any day spent without you incomplete
Pulled up with the white Sk8-Hi’s all with the jeans
I been spendin’ my days by chasin’ the green
Now it’s
get da cheese, dats by any means
If ya real, then throw ya set, let me see ya sign
Project Pat, from the southside, out here on the grind
While
pat-downs
Put that money by my ear
Issa rack crown (Ay)
I pick up my penny, put it back down
I'mma turn the London to a crack-house
Turn a silver Rari
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
four from the cooler of ice
Long green shelf of Guinness, toy leprechauns
Four leaf clovers, Irish flags plant in the lawn
A row devoted to Saint Pats
phone, just got paged by a curly curly
Hit me on my horn three times if you want the crack
But fool don't be paging me no more for no credit sack
Sipping
(Chorus)
I don't want to go to county jail no more more more
Its a big fat policeman at my door door door
He'll snatch you by yo collar make you pay
to the Wheel of Fortune where Pat don't Sajak
Bring it to these cats often, the biggest payback
is when I condemn men, to purgatory
Stick a pen, do
green that, green fit, green hat
Even got a green bitch with a green ass
In Brooklyn took a green cab back where we at
Can't see Pat, look, Peppy
You know how Mac play, quiet town, tie it down
I supply it now, by the pound
Might front you a Q if you buy a pound
If you didn't try it then, why
be falling for no ho
Tryna make it on The Hills, I ain't got nowhere to go
Said I was born in Georgia, on the corner
By the U-G-L-Y corner
a mere glock
Place it up to your back
Fat sacks your smocking on
Mack man with a tone
P-A-T bout the lout
Riding by then I shoot
Who's to say cheefin hay
Ask God to Lettuce get this green just like the Romaines
I stay inside cause I feel safest in my domain
If you come by this how I'll greet you
Mac play, quiet town, tie it down
I supply it now, by the pound
Might front you with a cube if you buy a pound
If you didn't try it then, why
And people callin' it green
That smoke how much I like it
Again it's up to him
I need to let some shots off
And DJ Paul with Teflon also take that
Wanna be a baller, shot caller
Twenty-inch blades on the Impala
Call her, gettin' laid tonight
Swisha rolled tight, got sprayed by Ike
I hit
Wanna be a baller, shot caller
Twenty-inch blades on the Impala
Call her, gettin' laid tonight
Swisha rolled tight, got sprayed by Ike
I hit
from six, still mastered the streets
We maneuver with rugers, over paper we'll do ya
Smuggled the green moved the white, travel by night cause it's
addicted to thugging, that's why I toss in my sleep
Tear drops on the sheets, how many I lost in these streets
From Mafio to P-A-T, I'ma hold down the fort
We are the mean green machine
We are the mighty green machine
We are the boys from the Linwood Keas
Yeah, Yeah We always winning
Yeah, Yeah We always
Living by the title she call me a king
I don't need a scale only He can judge me
Gotta follow all my regiments, making all the green
I get bright in
a slut
Now this is how the shit begins
I met Dana by one of my friends
By Big O just to be exact
We was just chillin' by my homie named Pat
Then I heard
where i sleep, now give me my key
[Verse 8: N.O.R.E.]
New York get the blood money, dirty cash still sweet
We will blackwall street by the swapmeet with
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