Lyrics:
by she said she seen me in the club
In the project x party where I ran into my plug
Think he tryna overdose he got three pills on his tongue
I just
been washing in I need a wizard
To set this price, movable object come from the project bet on his life
Blinded by vice, running with mice, thinking it's
Hawk, and Fat Pat
When you cross yo'best bet is to back back
Mo City, Texas will open up yo back
Where the killers get killed and
The jackers get jacked
I
"120" Lyrics By Black Neldy
Intro
Yeeeeaaa!
Palm Beach is back nigga... (Huh)
Mr. Punchline is back nigga... (Huh)
Project Boyz, Si'l Pa Bèl Nou
to the projects
Some shit she ain't used to
A hood nigga fa sho that's to the fullest
Ay tell them lame ass niggas to eat a bullet
Playin' hooky I was tryna get her
believe in signing, I see dollar signs
Color white collar crime
Good God, the gift of freedom
Hosena Santa invoked and woke up slaves from south Hampton
a beretta
Need y'all to run it back, boo, where the dollars at?
When I'm off that liquor, I feel like I'm Project Pat
Bitch, you really, really wack,
or maybe like ten thousand dollar rabbits
The kid walked through, switch up his accent, now I'm from Paris
Cash the bill, frozen elements in gold
Signs
or maybe like ten thousand dollar rabbits
The kid walked through, switch up his accent, now I'm from Paris
Cash the bill, frozen elements in gold
Signs
We can get gangsta if y'all take it to that
Y'all niggas ain't no killers y'all niggas some rats
East East we ain't scared hoe we feeling like pat
Steve, Big Hawk, and Fat Pat
When you cross yo'best bet is to back back
Mo City, Texas will open up yo back
Where the killers get killed and the jackers
mixtapes
Everyone I meet shop a beat or a mixtape
See they plan to enslave
And make a billion dollars just off inmates
Clone meat your intake
Chicken
the shit till I drop it I'm pennywise
If you live and you die by the streets it is not a crime
30 Thousand dollars in all 20's it a change yo mind
Sign my
promiscuous
I gain support cause I'm a flamin' torch
Yep I'm heap, but fuck a beat
I don't need no track for
My train of thought for the dollar signs
I sign my
ugly do you have to be to be a hardcore MC?
Niggaz be fooled by my plaques and my light skin complexture
My whole texture is bombin, destroyin da
on they necks 'til they can't breathe
Claim they five stars but sell you dreams
They say death multiplies by threes
Line them all up and let's just see
Fuck
Before I'm judged by 12, put a 12 on my V
Told my niggas, "I need you"
Stay up I know these times ain't true
Real life, what's free
Since a lad, I
It's the bomb, baby
The bomb, baby
With no ifs, no ands, no buts, and no maybes
[Verse 1]
I walk through the projects with stress in my hands
[Intro: Project Pat]
Yes sir hypnotized mutherfuckin minds my boy Lil Wyte
about to put it down for you mutherfuckin hoe's just
like this it's goin
grinning huh
Like I'm project pat but more wit a kodak smile
Stylin on these niggas with fashion that's coming out
In a few seasons believe or stay in denial
on they necks 'til they can't breathe
Claim they five stars but sell you dreams
They say death multiplies by threes
Line them all up and let's just see
Fuck
I stand
Honey all that good shit tell me, who's the man?
From, here to Bangkok, I sign my John Hancock
on the contract, it's like 1-2-3 Contact
Kick
to get a job and wasn't qualified
Had to see a pal of mine, got to get the lightning rod
Now I'm in the black Impala looking for the dollar sign
Palms
Thank you Project Pat
I want all the smoke
I want all the smoke
I want all the smoke
I want all the smoke
Repping the good guys always doing bad shit
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