Lyrics:
believe it, it can go down my nigga
Caught up in some traffic behind some hood rat
Grease strikes you out with no get back
Wishing for a steak eating
You talking back you stay lacking
Take out the knife and I'm stabbing
I put you in it fearing
Stand by
What are you saying?
Automatic acting keep him
Ha ha, ha ha
Say ho, everybody say ho
Ba-buh-wayo
I said shake your soul like way back in the day-yo
Ba-buh-wayo, everybody say ho
Everybody say
I told y'all motherfuckers I was coming back (oh shit)
What now, nigga? What now?
What? Brewster Projects, nigga
One shot, two shot, three
I told y'all motherfuckers I was coming back (oh shit)
What now, nigga? What now?
What? Brewster Projects, nigga
One shot, two shot, three
Ice your frame and hang ya banger by his chain
This is Crip talk, Blood New York
Blow ya brains in your hand, nigga hold that thought
From outta
on the low we gon'
Stack up the green
I'm in the lab
Hit my phone by the ring
Slide through
What you waiting on
Only you can have it now (Yeah)
We laying low
[Break]
[Verse Three: Masta Killa]
Be on the lookout for this mass murderous suspect
That fills more body bags than apartments in projects
And as far
and got ah sack and grabbed a smith and western
Looked at the projects like I got us ima be a legend
Look in the mirror like I'm tired of stressing
If
the process you know
One step at a time
First he came in with no fear
The inoculation
E cope well
The adaptation
Afrocentric project
No competition
Now be
how we killin' the game we killin' the game
We be killin' the brain and got me not feelin' a thang
I'm back in my stash, we back in the lab
Got
in you"
Fuck around, get some metal in you
My name ring bells, I could sell out whatever venue
For us, by us
For us, by us
For us, by us
For
house I said: "I'm with you, toots"
The music was soft and there was wine in the glasses
She started winking and making little passes
At me she pat me
Fancy meeting in a drug store.
I recognized you by the ears.
Kidding, you've got looks to die for.
Has it really been two years?
Got your wedding
Chevy, got 'em still takin' pictures
Got the 'verts back to back in the trenches
Ridin' on the block like, "What you lookin' at?"
I got 'em stutterin'
n**** serve ur projects
Hustlin homie thats all i know in the summer time i can make the whole strip snow
[Chorus]
you can live by the gun or die by
back, I'm on they ass and they ain't on shit
Yeah, I'm tryna get bruh the trap, he a project baby, stuck up in the bricks
Yeah, pressure bout no hoe, that
codes
Sink it down that's the green cones
Making a movie like Pete jones
I'm packing up bags we back in the trap
Call me dexter coz I'm back in the lab
I I I
Came from the projects, nigga
Don't care if it kill me, I die, I'll stay in the projects
You know I'm fresh as a motherfucker, in case that I
the lab
Worked a double feet hurt, still ran a track
Got caught by my manager, hiding in the back
He just said I'm fye, yerd
Must've heard the raps, uh
can goo google me like Project Pat
My salary in cash look like ten tons of celery
And ima cash out till' the fat lady sings a melody
I was that kid that
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
plan (oh no)
I was counting by myself in my lab man (all alone)
You said what you said, can't take it back
You said what you said, can't take it back
You look at this picture with a wondering eye
And then at the arrow that hangs by it's side
They tell a story for you know there is one
With
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