- Lyrics
- Album list
- Singer Intro
Project Pat( Patrick Houston )
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Roll Wit It
If you boys got beef we can roll wit it In da club or da street we can go wit it It don't make me none, blow for, blow wit it Crack his head wit a gun, I'ma sho, split it
In Hollywood at the stop sign watchin' out for one time Clean on them things, niggas hate 'cuz I'm 'bout mine I'm on that weed, so the car's kinda smokey The glock's in the stash 'cuz I'm dodgin' the pokey
It's hard on tha street, niggas livin' like a catfish A project killa, four kids and a fat bitch Try to flip e'ry quarter ounce, ain't no credit barred We accept cash, merchandise or ya ebit card (E B T)
Like to start shit, at the club we be flexin' And we'll kill a bitch, at these hoes we be beckin' North, north to the full, my game they respectin' A rope to the bumper, you get drug by yo neck-in
Don't come around here, you'z betta reckin' You get ya ass blowed off for playin' and jeckin' Down in this dirty, only real muhfuckas rule Hoes wearin' flirty skirties, young niggas act a fool
If you boys got beef we can roll wit it In da club or da street we can go wit it It don't make me none, blow for, blow wit it Crack his head wit a gun, I'ma sho, split it
If you boys got beef we can roll wit it In da club or da street we can go wit it It don't make me none, blow for, blow wit it Crack his head wit a gun, I'ma sho, split it
If there's some ana to handle I'm gonna take care of my biz I got a scope on ya body, I'm aimin' straight for yo wig I love to show out on hoes, I love to cut up wit niggas These bitches always get wrong, so I love pullin' tha trigga
And since you hoes won't learn I got some lessons to teach You betta call up the pastor, he got a sermon to preach I ain't wit that arguin' and cussin' and fussin' Bitchin' and fightin', I'm buckin' choppas off top
Committed to takin' yo life 'n La Chat a mac slash killa Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Only speakin' the real-a, I'm tryna let you know it's on For you violate a nigga, a bitch be quick to talk shit But do you mean what you say A real killa don't be talkin', they just be on they way
I don't think you wanna get down, you boys ain't ready for beef There ain't nowhere you can hide, I called out an APD This ain't game that ya playin', these bitches comin' up slayin' I keep my ears to tha street, so hoe you watch what ya sayin'
If you boys got beef we can roll wit it In da club or da street we can go wit it It don't make me none, blow for, blow wit it Crack his head wit a gun, I'ma sho, split it
If you boys got beef we can roll wit it In da club or da street we can go wit it It don't make me none, blow for, blow wit it Crack his head wit a gun, I'ma sho, split it
They lock me up just like Tupac and I went platinum Laid it down for a calendar, now right back at 'em Took my game, weighed it up on a triple beam Niggas rob, kill, murder, steal for that ghetty green
U.S. Marshal at my folks house, wanna kill me dead Wanna see me in a pine box, bullet in my head Police mane, I ain't did shit, why you hatin' this? Ghetto thugs love my rap songs, they relate to this
Swingin' fists knock ya eyeball, clean out ya face Shoulda known it was shit starters, all in tha place Young niggas on that powder, gon' off tha bay Sneakin' tones in da club, you could get blown away
It's a muhfuckin' clique thang, represent ya hood Slangin' cane makin' plenty change, all to the good Smokin' blunt after blunt, pound after pound Throw a dead body in tha trunk, high weave ya down
If you boys got beef we can roll wit it In da club or da street we can go wit it It don't make me none, blow for, blow wit it Crack his head wit a gun, I'ma sho, split it
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