|
Project PAT:
|
Man, why these niggas always hatin' on Hynotize and Cash Money?
|
Man, fuck these niggas!
|
|
Baby:
|
What's up wodie? It's these gold girll and these platinum-mouth boys.
|
These big time Hot Boy$, these 3-6 boys,
|
wit the self made millionaire Cash Money boys.
|
|
Turk:
|
You done fucked with the wrong nigga
|
Must they know that I ride and I shoot quicker
|
Should have known not to upset this lil nigga
|
You got a click so what nigga my click thicker
|
A bunch of real niggas that'll burn ya
|
With no waitin' catch ya slippin then jam ya up
|
Slangin' weight ain't no thang for me
|
Play by the rules
|
Or shit I'll kill yo' family
|
That's what I do
|
Bust ya chest wide open
|
And split ya fade nigga
|
And them all frozen
|
Moves from the 'K nigga
|
Turk don't play, when it's time to get serious
|
Think I'm a hoe keep it that way and stay curious
|
|
Baby:
|
Niggas be shoutin' one love but wearin black gloves
|
Some niggas 26 and 28 still live in they mom house askin' for play
|
Them niggas shouldn't be respected, they fake
|
Instead of hittin' blocks with glocks and touchin' niggas money spot
|
And breakin' bread with the woman who put em in that spot
|
These niggas wanna trick they hoes
|
And play with they nose
|
Instead of totin' fo' fo's and movin' fuckin' kilos
|
Nigga I done bought more cars than niggas done bought pussy hoes
|
And bought more rims than niggas done fucked they main hoe in they assholes
|
3-6 told me to roll and unload
|
But nigga fuck that
|
I'm tryin' to stack and mack
|
And that deal with Universal shoulda showed that
|
But Uptown is where its at
|
Playboy won't you tell me how you luv that?
|
Won't you tell me how you luv that?
|
|
Chorus:
|
Ballers
|
We be on some twanky twankies
|
Playa hatas get found stanky stanky
|
Trickin fat blunts of that danky danky
|
Big diamond rangs on our panky panky
|
(Repeat)
|
|
Juvenile:
|
Fuck with 3-6 Mafia gon' make me millions
|
Fuck with CMR gon' make me some more millions
|
I can see it, I'm a kill 'em
|
And build me and building
|
And put some money to the side for my mom and my children
|
Ridin' with my nigga Rambezee ????
|
Drinkin' for my nigga Babyzee and B.G.eezy
|
Ducked off
|
Tinted windows on my candy apple cut dawg
|
It's a classy nigga fuck yall
|
|
Juicy J:
|
I'm representin' Northern Memphis to the fuckin' fullest
|
We ain't the kind to tote a gun when there ain't no bullets
|
And when that drama starts the strap we expect to pull it
|
You see a nigga holdin gauge and you wish he would have
|
Rolled by yo' mama house and put her in a coma
|
Cuz niggas gone on that Hennessey and marijuana
|
And now we back up in the hood on a burner phone-a
|
In that game slangin' came to you blood donors
|
It's on, coward
|
|
Lil Wayne:
|
They call me quick draw 2 pistols Lil Wayne
|
Champagne took my brain I don't think I just aim
|
Drop tops on a Z-3
|
Start shootin' like 3 burners
|
How come them try me
|
Never know me block burner
|
Better watch for lil shorty in black
|
Nigga get back
|
Bout to make my glock 40 click clack
|
Brrr kill it
|
It's yo Life
|
Spill It
|
Playin' with the realest
|
Pop fire like a skillet
|
Now nigga what the dilly
|
Highly influenced on Cristal
|
I'm warnin' you to clear the set because it gets wild
|
I be disguised as a mailman with a pistol
|
Then deliver him 50 shots and take his child
|
|
DJ Paul:
|
Punk bitch I dare ya
|
I double dare ya step against this pot belly
|
Bitches they try to step to the ruler but they ain't ready
|
Weak ass them cowards try to make moves but I knock 'em out
|
2nd ones step yall need more help 2 barrels in his mouth
|
Face it when this shits fucked up you gotta deal with it
|
This is my game, live with it or get killed with it
|
These are my dice
|
This is my board I let you roll off
|
And how you gon' have ice when I cut your fuckin' water off
|
|
Chorus
|
|
Project PAT:
|
It's the project nigga roll back I own them bricks
|
Kickin' game with the Hot Boy$ and 3-6
|
B.G., Juvenile, Baby, Lil Wayne
|
North Memphis, Uptown, and we havin' thangs
|
AIn't no thang when ya come real ya gotta shine
|
I'm strapped with a glock 9, he ain't takin' mine
|
We in our prime puttin' in work player |