Project Pat

Project Pat - Don't Turn Around songtekst

Je score:

 I only fuck wit those, who only fuck wit me

 A sucka' play for games, a main play for keeps

 I keeps me a nine millimeter just in case 

 A coward's in my face

 These bullets he gon taste 



 A waste of your life, steppin' wrong, im on trees 

 Best to leave me alone, best to go make some cheese 

 Enemies come in all shapes, forms, sizes, colors

 Could be your best friend, cousin, or brothers



 I rob'em all, just to see who got the fattest stack 

 Walked in the bank, put the loot in the Kroger sack

 Slapped on the guard four times fo' he passed out

 Eyes on the blow and my pockets was assed out

 Had on a trench coat, wig and some goggles

 If'n you resist, you may not see tomorrow 

 I'm in there, outta there the police couldn't get me 

 But I made a slip up: had a trick wit me.



 Chorus X2:



 Don't turn around (Give me the fuckin' cheese trick)

 Don't make a sound (Show me where them keys at)

 Lay it on the ground (knowing that your pockets fat)

 Fore' I buck you down (and I'm quicks' to do that)



 Nigga starting braggin' in his hood bout the robbery

 Wasn't long then, fore' somebody dropped the dime on me

 Im'a be the one they can't get to, they picked the boy up

 Run his mouth just like a fool, he gon' get me fucked up

 But, Im'a have to get to him before the police do-a

 Caught up with him night and day, not him and his crew-a

 Sprang down Chelsie Ave. kinda in the evening

 For this muhfuckas death, dawg I was fiend'n

 He was looking at me strange, like Im'a catcha

 I done hopped out with the thang, lemme holla at'cha,

 Foo, where you been dog? (My momma got sick, main!) 

 Fuck that got to do wit'chu? (Hold up I ain't your bitch, main!)

 I heard you been talking your muh-fuckin' lips loose (Nah, it ain't like that dawg, I ain't no damn fool)

 Looking in his eyes, I could see that he was so scared 

 I squeezed on the trigga with the gun to his fo'-head.



 (Chorus x2)



 Blew the top out his skull, now they want me dead

 All the niggas in his hood, police and the feds

 Stepped out of Westwood, way out of the side 

 On the other side of town, somewhere I can hide 

 I done threw my life away, hunted by them by pigs

 Robbing every other day, drops in off my nig 

 They done found my whereabouts, bouts' to do me in

 Kickin' in the front door, and I was in the den

 SK was under the couch, snatch it off the wham

 Open fire on them hoes, I didn't give a damn

 Blood stream was full of dope, pump off coca leaf

 Feds had me under a scope, and an infrared beam 

 Rifle bullet threw my throat, chokin', hit tha flo'

 Gunpowder in my mouth, knockin' heavens door

 Street life done took me out, and that shit ain't fake

 I done fuck myself off, cause I made a mistake
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Taal: Engels

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