Влез Регистрация

Скрий

Забравена парола

Забравена парола? Въведи твоят e-mail адрес и ще ти изпратим link, с който да създадеш нова парола.

Назад

Затвори
Project Pat

Project Pat

Whatever Ho

Адреса на видеото във Youtube, Vbox7 или Vimeo

Оригинален текст

DJ Paul:
Yeah you muth*fkin' hoes
Y'all know the muth*fkin' dead Hypnotize Camp and Profit Posse in this
muth*fka
Get one of these gold plaques on the wall before you talk some old
muth*fkin' s**t
b*tch, it's whatever nigg*
We in this muth*fka for the 9-9, 9's to your head ho
(Mafia, Mafia, Mafi-ya, ya, Mafia, Mafia, Mafi-ya, ya)

Juicy J:
Glock 9's, Tech 9's, any kinda gun b*tch
Evergreen gats have got these cowards on the run b*tch
Kill 'em like they convicts
Know they hear them guns click
Doped up like a muth*fka (Cough, Cough, Snort)
You could catch me in the same hood, on the fkin' same block
With a pearl Rolex watch, and a knot, and a glock
9 o'clock clock nigg* like to slang cuz I be hustlin' weight and
We gon' put a end to you hoes and you hatin'

Lord Infamous:
I'ma be every fkin' piece of skrilla cheese out here I can make
I'ma break every fkin' b*tch, fatalities that I can bring
I'ma millie my pillie but killie, killin' everything that I wanna kill
You weak as* don't want Lord Infamous from South Parkway to get ill
Long from the norm, we get dumb with a bomb, with the guns you girls y'all
best get steel
Scarecrow, Club House, yes it gets ill
So, all y'all listen closely don't you ever forget
Y'all wouldn't, Y'all never be s**t with out us b*tch
Don't forget

Cruchy Black:
Killin' ain't s**t
girls ain't s**t
ain't s**t
Bodies in a ditch
How many done talked that s**t
About the Project fkin' Pat, Thug Posse ya b*tch
gon' talk, girls gon' start
muth*fkaz gonna get they bodies in a trunk
All I want is cash
muth*fkaz have
Get down on your knees
Gimme all your cash

ScanMan:
Whoa, muth*fka watch yourself, just watch your back
Cause still we chillin' with Pat
Straped with them gats
Be ready to attack
All you hatin' as* that wanna jump, yo punk what's up
You better come up real with your muth*tfkin' s**t, cause boy, it's gonna
get rough
Situation's gone bad, for you claimin' killaz
Automatic triggaz pullin' drillin' holes inside your liver
How you figure, I was gon' let you talk that s**t and peep these streets
Sayin' "That ScanMan boy's a b*tch" know watch them throw lights out in my
head

DJ Paul:
Killin', buckin', buckin up in Gunfire
Bullets rickin' off the walls, nigg* this is Warfare
Suckaz claimin' they got nuts
You don't know these elephants
Specialize in takin' notes
Specialize in nappy hoes
this is serious, I can't play no games no more
actin' curious, but I think they know the score
girls know the Hypnotize medallion show what click you claim
Hold it up strong, only those, who stay real, or maintain', in this game

MC Mack:
Alot of talk that s**t and end up gettin' the wig split
It's MC Mack, the nigg* known for smackin', jackin', Cracker Jacks
Busta as* nigg*, run you mouth and get your as* blowed off
Watch me put my ski mask on, come a gat back now trick now drop it off
Shoot a super soaker in a minute don't you give a fk about another nigg*
if he's speakin' use your counter attack
Rollin' like a nigg* smack a nigg* like a nigg* smack a b*tch, you crump,
you ain't no busta
Ain't no love lost off in my heart, there's no place colder
Won't you come a little closer nigg*, you won't be rollin' our

T-Rock:
Socialists up actin' miss servin' sevens
Have 'em in jail suspended, in the middle
Started rivalries civil
Homies swithin', actin' fickle
But if you fk with family ties, we leave you triple
That nigg* there know his gun a missle, Lord don't flash on him, only man
ain't chival
Erasin' ample businesses all in the name of the T-Rock
Suckaz eat pot, sw*llow D, and get punished for three rocks
Bangin' the hit stops, it won't be over, 'til your heat pops
Away from the gravity, stand and point your a Tech and see him drop

Gangsta Boo:
Yeah I know, I know
Down, down, baby goin' down, down
Sweet dreams baby, Rock-a-bye baby
wanna run up, we be flexin' the Tech and
Be pointed at ya we comin', and I b*tch, I bet ya, I bet ya
You wanna hit 'em, but nigg* you an't forget 'em, forget 'em
Because you sorry, and sorry ain't nothin' but venom
I know girls out there lovin' me, got dreams of fkin' me
fkin' me ain't the story gon' fk you up more than me

DJ Paul:
It's whatever, whatever ho
Whatever, whatever ho
It's whatever, whatever ho
Whatever, whatever ho
It's whatever, whatever ho
Whatever, whatever ho
It's whatever, whatever ho
Whatever, whatever ho
It's whatever, whatever ho
Whatever, whatever ho
It's whatever, whatever ho
Whatever, whatever ho
It's whatever, whatever ho
Whatever, whatever ho
It's whatever, whatever ho
Whatever, whatever ho
It's whatever, whatever ho
Whatever, whatever ho
It's whatever, whatever ho
Whatever

Project Pat:
Alot of gunfire, bustin' on you hoes to get my point across
Ridin' in your hood and let the muth*fkin' bullets toss
Tossin' me a berries pack, now I'm tossin' you some dramma
Ridin' with my congregation, and we smokin' on marijuana
If you wanna go to war with us, we prepared to bust
Caught that slippin' at his place, shot him in his face
Now I race, from the scenery, blowin' on greenery
Know I got a temper but you tricks wanna be mean to me
It's the weak, told to tell 'em, Julius Caesar, how he rolls
Newspaper, told to tell 'em, how he just got lnocked of his toes
You should know, that we rollin' deep, hittin' like a train
Kiss the floor, don't be lookin' dumb cause I don't explain
I maintain, killaz catchin' drinks, Project cathin' cappers
Shootin' at your muth*fkin' lane, they be catching vapors
Playa Haters, violatiers, bulls*h*ters, this for y'all
Boy I keep a big gun, you don't want none

добави Превод

Зареди коментарите

Още текстове от Project Pat