I only fuck wit those, who only fuck wit me
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A sucka' play for games, a main play for keeps
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I keeps me a nine millimeter just in case
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A coward¡¯s in my face
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These bullets he gon taste
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A waste of your life, steppin' wrong, im on trees
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Best to leave me alone, best to go make some cheese
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Enemies come in all shapes, forms, sizes, colors
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Could be your best friend, cousin, or brothers
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I rob'em all, just to see who got the fattest stack
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Walked in the bank, put the loot in the Kroger sack
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Slapped on the guard four times fo¡¯ he passed out
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Eyes on the blow and my pockets was assed out
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Had on a trench coat, wig and some goggles
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If¡¯n you resist, you may not see tomorrow
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I¡¯m in there, outta there the police couldn't get me
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But I made a slip up: had a trick wit me.
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Chorus X2:
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Don¡¯t turn around (Give me the fuckin¡¯ cheese trick)
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Don¡¯t make a sound (Show me where them keys at)
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Lay it on the ground (knowing that your pockets fat)
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Fore¡¯ I buck you down (and I¡¯m quicks¡¯ to do that)
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Nigga starting braggin¡¯ in his hood bout the robbery
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Wasn't long then, fore¡¯ somebody dropped the dime on me
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Im¡¯a be the one they can¡¯t get to, they picked the boy up
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Run his mouth just like a fool, he gon¡¯ get me fucked up
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But, Im¡¯a have to get to him before the police do-a
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Caught up with him night and day, not him and his crew-a
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Sprang down Chelsie Ave. kinda in the evening
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For this muhfuckas death, dawg I was fiend'n
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He was looking at me strange, like Im¡¯a catcha
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I done hopped out with the thang, lemme holla at¡¯cha,
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Foo, where you been dog? (My momma got sick, main!)
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Fuck that got to do wit¡¯chu? (Hold up I ain¡¯t your bitch, main!)
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I heard you been talking your muh-fuckin¡¯ lips loose (Nah, it ain¡¯t like that dawg, I ain¡¯t no damn fool)
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Looking in his eyes, I could see that he was so scared
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I squeezed on the trigga with the gun to his fo¡¯-head.
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(Chorus x2)
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Blew the top out his skull, now they want me dead
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All the niggas in his hood, police and the feds
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Stepped out of Westwood, way out of the side
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On the other side of town, somewhere I can hide
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I done threw my life away, hunted by them by pigs
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Robbing every other day, drops in off my nig
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They done found my whereabouts, bouts¡¯ to do me in
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Kickin¡¯ in the front door, and I was in the den
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SK was under the couch, snatch it off the wham
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Open fire on them hoes, I didn't give a damn
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Blood stream was full of dope, pump off coca leaf
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Feds had me under a scope, and an infrared beam
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Rifle bullet threw my throat, chokin¡¯, hit tha flo¡¯
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Gunpowder in my mouth, knockin¡¯ heavens door
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Street life done took me out, and that shit ain¡¯t fake
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I done fuck myself off, cause a bad mistake
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(Chorus x2)
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-----------------
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Don't Turn Around
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| Project Pat |
