Lyrics:
could make a young lady scream
By makin' musical sounds with my mounth(listen)
So I tried it at a party
And people didn't know it was me
And when
and now I got scatter me
Fuckin' in the back of the car like a sofa
I don't pitty-pat, tryna kill you and your mother
I don't know nobody but I can
broke em all down and we all got high
And niggas don't be trippin don't be doin no drive-bys
Cause we don't gangbang, don't wear blue or red
We like
by choir]
Searchin so looooong (so long) lost in the clouuuuuds (in the clouds)
Tryin to stay strooooong, and make you prouuuuud - make you proud!
Took
(Samples by Alchemist:)
Looked up the dj, and said may I?
[Large Proffesor]
Blow and pow like 4th of July explosives?
Lit it up, like the 4th
This is architect music
Verbal street opera pop a 'tec man fully got the projects booming indeed
I ran through the tunnel
Terrorize speed
That's when
since the age of three,
These niggas been saving hoes,
Street freaks and denim jeans,
Mardi Gras, me and Sup,
Fell asleep in the projects,
Full of that
[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
at
Knife Talk no feature Project Pat
Lonely nights spent by myself
How is it possible to love oneself
Shut out from the world just me and my pen
Writing
Slay gang shit
Yo this the life we live
And that's word to project pat
Brown skin shorty
And she wants to throw it back
New year same me
Never
schochkies on the breakfront of life.
I'll never forget the first time I found these girls,
Selling their papayas on 42nd Street. So flushed, so filthy.
after speech time, the spark in the street crime
Niggas throwing anything at you except for peace signs
Live by the gun, die by the gun
'Til my time
have her ass pumpin like the dope in the projects
I'm still in these streets like I ain't even hot yet
I do it for the hood like I can't even stop yet
could have free transportation
I Can't Breathe
When I'm stopped by the police
I Can't Breathe
When white people cross the street
I Can't Breathe
When
you proud!
Took me some time (took me some time) now I see (oh now I see)
He resides, in me (yeah)
(Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special guest
the down payment
You talking all that Jazz
Get yourself
Mutilated
Gorilla pimpin is an all season sport ( season sport )
I learned that from
Project pat
the chamber for you weak ass coward)
Don't save her she don't wanna be saved
I'mma introduce me, Project Pat, I keep it real
I'mma introduce you, you's a sucka
teacher from my home room
Said I wouldn't make it
Stupid bitch I told you you lied
So I called Trae Tha Truth
And I hit Project Pat now
We balling
schochkies on the breakfront of life.
I'll never forget the first time I found these girls,
Selling their papayas on 42nd Street. So flushed, so filthy.
Yeah, this big Bun B the baby southern OG
I'm Pimp C's brother every body knows me
Comin' from that P.A.T, with Mr. V.I.C.
Young Mogul, ENT.
If you
lifestyle looks hazey
dreams to drive a Mercedes
with a pile of ladies
[NAS]
Third grade singing star spangled banner
using proper manners
learnt to handle
breakfast, lunch and Dinner
Hopped on the street, their ain't no Certified meals
Project of certainty
You gotta be a hustler
Dig thro the rocks
Hommies got
got your nuts cut off so you really can't hang, bro
Pray to God you're not struck in the street by Dodge Durango
cll of these people I meet are so damn
never sober
Take me to the booth moving in big bags like Sean
I be slidin' if it's hosted by Melvin and John
And only would spit German wit Cida on a Song
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