Lyrics:
stack it stay on your grind
To my dawgs in the projects
Dawgs in mansions stay on your grind
If you not my dog I don't need daps
I don't need laughs I
Hypnotize Minds Productions
Presents
(Yeah) New Project Pat
Project Pat
It's goin' down
Aah
Good googly moogly, that thang is juicy
like a keeps
Snatch a nigga chain, Talib, Talib Kweli
I could be lyrically, but I put on cleats
Scribbled lines goin' through my mind like a paper
ratchet
But a nigga still try to be humble
Shout to the triple og's
And my niggas in the projects
And all of my uncles
Run up on the gang its gone cost ya
and I'll die by the dream
Mentally I'm hearing my dead homies tell me live for me
They never got to get that old becoming victim of these streets
Cause
Checking the young chicks, looking for hit and run prospects
He was fascinated by material objects
But he understood money never bought respect
He build
keep my ears to tha street
So hoe you watch what ya sayin
(Project Pat)
They lock me up just like Tupac
And I went platinum
Layed it down for a calendar
of the day, all I need is cheese
Bumping Project Pat, thinkin' Getty green by myself
I don't wanna be seen, I ain't popping out, less i'm with the team
Niggas
never folds
I take by example of course
Aye aye
My mind feels vacant right
Thanks to liq that I sip in the dead of night
It's a trip still I live like it
standing up to fight
Niggas witchu in the day
Gone by the night
Cause the streets a hungry
Full of appetite
Imma patron sipper
Dice flicker
Project hallway
projects
drug dealing going back to catching cases
I had money on my mind
I always put that shit first
Somewhere in the projects
I was pushing that work
I
the bailout, bitch
Trap house built brick by brick, paid dues on dues
FF good, you know I'm reppin' crew on crews
Stack bills on bills 'til my backyards got
and love it, sort of chilly
Then I send a shorty from my block to the store for phillies
After being blessed by the herb's essence
I'm back to my rest,
my knowledge from
I had to drop and run
My life was not as fun
Thinking bad thoughts, like stop it son
On top of that my money was on E
On top of that
when it's dirty still a hoe pulla
She wanna fuck my car im a go getta
Don't treat her like a star i'm a go-rilla
(Project Pat)
? like Alaska, make these
And take any nigga in the click to the Super Bowl
And party like it ain't nothin
But most of my homies they done died over drug money
Like Bizzy Bob
I got my mind on my money, and I'm not goin' away
So keep on gettin' your paper
For real yeah ain't never had to tell me get this bread
Holiday
Born with nothing i gotta die
With me some money
Aye check that window
Just make sure that aint them People coming
This my testimony
Project living tv
the DJ bring it back
See I'm A-Town stompin in a A-Town hat
But I'm reppin Tennessee, like my homey Project Pat
It ain't 'bout where you from, homeboy,
Ghetto dreams baby
That's what we talking bout..
[Hook]
Ghetto dreams, diamond rings
Money hoes and clothes and all those, fancy things
[Fat Pat
Ghetto dreams baby
That's what we talking bout..
[Hook]
Ghetto dreams, diamond rings
Money hoes and clothes and all those, fancy things
[Fat Pat
Swagger down pat, call my shit Patricia
Young Money militia, and I am the commissioner
You don’t want start Weezy, ’cause the F is for Finisher
So
ridin' foreign with
My son in a Jag
I was fuckin' on lil' shawty
Bare skin with no mask
I be on some other shit
My mind still in the past
I'm so grimey
go by, so you know I meant it
In school I was so shy, timid
Two pairs of jeans I'd alternate, bummy clothes, I 'member
Beggin' my mom for K-Mart
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