Lyrics:
the stick, yeah and sat him down
My nigga Nut so slick, they ain't pat him down
I got a hundred niggas on my line
A hundred squares at a time, nigga, hold
all my money like I'm in love with that bitch, I just fuck on that bitch
Look what I gotta do to get respect, that's why I got my boot all in your
on the hip
Pistol Grip Pistol G
Pump pump with the clip
Riding threw the city, lemonade with the henny
Project Pat syrup sippin bape sta”s with the Dickies
THE PROJECTS
I WAS RAISED BY STREETS IODIZED DRUG DEALERS SOCIALIZE WITH KILLERS KEEP THAT TOOLY CAUSE IM HIM JUMPED IN THAT WATER HAD TO LEARN HOW TO SWIM
every goddamn day
Well it's the pimp playa, ho layer
Money making, bitch breaker
Take a hoe to the motel and I save a
Spot for my row dogg
Drinkin'
a real studio in LA so
I saved up money doing Sheetrocking
And I drove out with my
Girlfriend at the time i
Was only supposed to be there for six weeks i
get nothin'
And lord some get it all
Some just run
While others crawled away
Hold my hand baby don't let go
I've got some front money
And I've got
you need a hug
I got so much to tell you but I don't know where to start
I'll try my best to keep this kinda short
Yeah
Young Man
You're nine years old,
looking for hit and run prospects
he was fascinated by material objects
but he understood money never bought respect
he build a reputation cause he could
Posters on my wall of Project Pat
Others from Memphis too it was all a dream
White boys where I'm from mostly cynical
Hold onto my focus with a broken dream
I got a strange feeling, that I'm a little bit different
Beyond the customs and tradition is a project living
My Korean warfare, grandfather's
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
Uhh, c'mon!
It's more to a song than, jewelry and clothes
More to a nigga's life than, money and hoes
The game is a lot bigger than you, think
They ain't fuck with my when I was all by my lonely, locked down on Carl Griffin
You broke the code, you put a dollar before me, we from the projects
the water, masked-taped to my Europeans
Supplyin', whole towns, little counters, in the projects
Tryna double my money up, leave the block, wit a profit
For
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
by my side
When i need 'em oh (i need 'em)t
I say Hold on y'all not ready for this
For this project that I'm cooking (yeah)
I'm somewhere in these
die together
As long as I send your maggot ass to the essence
I don't give a fuck about my presence
I'm lost in the blocks of hate and can't wait
For
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
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
with the gang
Treat these hoes all the same
Need the money
Not the fame
Yup met up by the poolside
Bitch was glowing in the moonlight
Fucked around
a dude could brag I'm a get to the bag
Got my mind on my money money money is mine
I don't mind the money and there's money to mine
Money money mine money
*Intro*
Yeah it's yo' boy Project Pat up in this thang this go out to all hustlers
In the Dirty South, Midwest, East Coast, West Coast
Err'body with
gon' prevail, nigga
I just poured something in my cup
I've been wanting something I can feel
Promise I am never lettin' up
Money in your palm don't
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