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ranky dank/whatevar heo - project pat lyrics

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yeah, you m-th-f-ckin’ hoes
y’all know the m-th-f-ckin’ dead hypnotize camp
and profit posse in this m-th-f-cka
get one of these gold plaques on the wall

before you talk some old m-th-f-ckin’ sh-t
b-tch, it’s whatever n-gga, we in this m-th-f-cka
for the 9-9, 9’s to your head ho
(mafia, mafia, mafi-ya, ya, mafia, mafia, mafi-ya, ya)

glock 9’s, tech 9’s, any kinda gun b-tch
evergreen gats have got these cowards on the run b-tch
k!ll ’em like they convicts
know they hear them guns cl!ck

doped up like a m-th-f-cka
(cough, cough, snort)
you could catch me in the same hood, on the f-ckin’ same block
with a pearl rolex watch and a knot, and a glock
9 o’clock clock n-gga like to slang ‘cuz i be hustlin’ weight
and we gon’ put a end to you hoes and you n-ggas hatin’

i’ma be every f-ckin’ piece of skrilla cheese out here i can make
i’ma break every f-ckin’ b-tch, fatalities that i can bring
i’ma millie my pillie but k!llie, k!llin’ everything that i wanna k!ll
you weak -ss n-ggas 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 b-tches 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 sh-t with out us b-tch, don’t forget

k!llin’ ain’t sh-t, b-tches ain’t sh-t
n-ggas ain’t sh-t, bodies in a ditch
how any n-ggas gonna talk dat sh-t
about da cruchy f-ckin’ black, thug posse ya b-tch

n-ggas gon’ talk, b-tches gon’ start
m-th-f-ckaz gonna get they bodies in a trunk
all i want is cash m-th-f-ckaz have
get down on your knees, gimme all your cash

whoa, m-th-f-cka watch yourself, just watch your back
’cause still we chillin’ with pat, straped with them gats
be ready to attack, all you hatin’ -ss n-ggas
that wanna jump, yo punk what’s up
you better come up real with your m-th-tf-ckin’ sh-t
’cause boy, it’s gonna get rough

situation’s gone bad for you n-ggas claimin’ k!llaz
automatic triggaz pullin’, drillin’ holes inside your liver
how you figure, i was gon’ let you talk that sh-t
and peep these streets sayin’, “that scanman boy’s a b-tch”
know watch them throw lights out in my head

k!llin’, buckin’, buckin’ up in gunfire
bullets rickin’ off the walls, n-gga this is warfare
suckaz claimin’ they got nuts
you don’t know these elephants
specialize in takin’ notes, specialize in nappy hoes

n-ggas this is serious, i can’t play no games no more
n-ggas actin’ curious but i think they know the score
b-tches know the hypnotize medallion show what cl!ck you claim
hold it up strong, only those, who stay real, or maintain’ in this game

alot of n-ggas talk that sh-t and end up gettin’ the wig split
it’s mc mack, the n-gga known for smackin’, jackin’, cracker jacks
busta -ss n-gga, run you mouth and get your -ss 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 f-ck about another n-gga
if he’s speakin’ use your counter attack

rollin’ like a n-gga smack a n-gga like a n-gga
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 n-gga, you won’t be rollin’ our

socialists up actin’ miss servin’ sevens
have ’em in jail suspended, in the middle
started rivalries civil, homies swithin’, actin’ fickle
but if you f-ck with family ties, we leave you triple

that n-gga 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, swallow 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

yeah, i know, i know, down, down, baby goin’ down, down
sweet dreams baby, rock-a-bye, baby
n-ggas 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 n-gga you an’t forget ’em, forget ’em
because you sorry and sorry ain’t nothin’ but venom
i know b-tches out there lovin’ me, n-ggas got dreams of f-ckin’ me
f-ckin’ me ain’t the story gon’ f-ck you up more than me

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

a lot of gunfire, bustin’ on you hoes to get my point across
ridin’ in your hood and let the m-th-f-ckin’ 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 n-ggas 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, k!llaz catchin’ drinks, project cathin’ cappers
shootin’ at your m-th-f-ckin’ lane, they be catching vapors
playa haters, violaters, bullsh-ters, this for y’all
boy i keep a big gun, you don’t want none

- project pat lyrics

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