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Тексты песен на английском, аккорды, табулатуры, гитара, Texts of songs, the song text, chords, notes » P » PROJECT PAT
Whatever Ho - текст песни



Whatever Ho


DJ Paul:

Yeah you muthafuckin' hoes

Y'all know the muthafuckin' dead Hypnotize Camp and Profit Posse in this

muthafucka

Get one of these gold plaques on the wall before you talk some old

muthafuckin' shit

Bitch, it's whatever nigga

We in this muthafucka 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 bitch

Evergreen gats have got these cowards on the run bitch

Kill 'em like they convicts

Know they hear them guns click

Doped up like a muthafucka (Cough, Cough, Snort)

You could catch me in the same hood, on the fuckin' same block

With a pearl Rolex watch, and a knot, and a glock

9 o'clock clock nigga like to slang cuz I be hustlin' weight and

We gon' put a end to you hoes and you niggaz hatin'



Lord Infamous:

I'ma be every fuckin' piece of skrilla cheese out here I can make

I'ma break every fuckin' bitch, fatalities that I can bring

I'ma millie my pillie but killie, killin' everything that I wanna kill

You weak ass niggaz 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 bitches 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 shit with out us bitch

Don't forget



Cruchy Black:

Killin' ain't shit

Bitches ain't shit

Niggaz ain't shit

Bodies in a ditch

How many niggaz done talked that shit

About the Project fuckin' Pat, Thug Posse ya bitch

Niggaz gon' talk, bitches gon' start

Muthafuckaz gonna get they bodies in a trunk

All I want is cash

Muthafuckaz have

Get down on your knees

Gimme all your cash



ScanMan:

Whoa, muthafucka watch yourself, just watch your back

Cause still we chillin' with Pat

Straped with them gats

Be ready to attack

All you hatin' ass niggaz that wanna jump, yo punk what's up

You better come up real with your muthatfuckin' shit, cause boy, it's gonna

get rough

Situation's gone bad, for you niggaz claimin' killaz

Automatic triggaz pullin' drillin' holes inside your liver

How you figure, I was gon' let you talk that shit and peep these streets

Sayin' "That ScanMan boy's a bitch" know watch them throw lights out in my

head



DJ Paul:

Killin', buckin', buckin up in Gunfire

Bullets rickin' off the walls, nigga this is Warfare

Suckaz claimin' they got nuts

You don't know these elephants

Specialize in takin' notes

Specialize in nappy hoes

Niggaz this is serious, I can't play no games no more

Niggaz actin' curious, but I think they know the score

Bitches 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 niggaz talk that shit and end up gettin' the wig split

It's MC Mack, the nigga known for smackin', jackin', Cracker Jacks

Busta ass nigga, run you mouth and get your ass 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 fuck about another nigga

if he's speakin' use your counter attack

Rollin' like a nigga smack a nigga like a nigga smack a bitch, 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 nigga, 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 fuck with family ties, we leave you triple

That nigga 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



Gangsta Boo:

Yeah I know, I know

Down, down, baby goin' down, down

Sweet dreams baby, Rock-a-bye baby

Niggaz wanna run up, we be flexin' the Tech and

Be pointed at ya we comin', and I bitch, I bet ya, I bet ya

You wanna hit 'em, but nigga you an't forget 'em, forget 'em

Because you sorry, and sorry ain't nothin' but venom

I know bitches out there lovin' me, niggaz got dreams of fuckin' me

Fuckin' me ain't the story gon' fuck 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 muthafuckin' 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 niggaz 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 muthafuckin' lane, they be catching vapors

Playa Haters, violatiers, bullshiters, this for y'all

Boy I keep a big gun, you don't want none



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