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letra de deep in the hood - project pat

intro (project pat)
yeah n-gga
you n-ggas know how it go out here
know i’m sayin?
n-gga i got three residence n-gga
my gal house, mama house, and the trap house n-gga
know i’m sayin? ya know i’m sayin?
n-gga you won’t catch me n-gga i’m over there in cyber garden
n-gga i’m over there in ridgegrove n-gga, ya know i’m sayin?
n-gga catch me n-gga, know i’m sayin?
n-gga i’m in hollywood n-gga, know i’m sayin?
i might be in hyde park, ya know i’m sayin?
yeah, just come get me n-gga
i’m in the hood n-gga, north memphis n-gga
that’s where i’m at n-gga, ya know i’m sayin?
and it’s whatever over here dogg (all day)

(hook, juicy j) [project pat]
we be deep in the hood, standin in cuts
come through with that sh-t and we gon shoot’cha sh-t up
we be deep in the hood, standin in cuts
come through with that sh-t and we gon shoot’cha sh-t up
[and our choppers go blocka-blocka, blocka-blocka, blocka]
[and our choppers go blocka-blocka, blocka-blocka, blocka]
[and our choppers go blocka-blocka, blocka-blocka, blocka]
[and our choppers go blocka-blocka, blocka-blocka, blocka]

(verse 1, juicy j)
n-gga f-ck yo hood, n-gga f-ck yo set
i’m that k!lla with the rusty tech
i’m the gorilla that’ll break yo neck
i’m that n-gga that’cha don’t f-ck wit
i always knew you n-ggas wasn’t real
i always knew you n-ggas would tell
i always knew you n-ggas would fail
i hope you n-ggas know i’m still gettin this mail
and ridin on sixes, f-ckin with b-tches
hustle all day man, gettin my issue
buy sellin dope, never workin that crystal
walk up in the bank then pull out a pistol
n-gga i’ll rob you, gimme that cheese
gimme that car, n-gga gimme them keys
a sawed-off pump, n-gga you can get these
bullets put a little color in ya white tees
don’t violate, and the guns get bigger
i’m from the north, straight real street n-gga
haters gon hate, y’all n-ggas ain’t k!llas
so why you wanna put’cha self in front of my trigger?
that’s suicide bruh, all covered up
standin on the block, n-gga all post up
you better hide the ho screamin it up
i’m takin out the trash n-gga, dump-dump-dump!

(verse 2, dj paul)
standin in the cut
with the mask and the pistol grip (grip-grip-grip-grip)
p-ssy n-gga best not slip
desert eagle, short nose, in my f-ckin draws ho
pull that sh-t, it’s like a remote, it’ll make yo little -ss pause ho
crawl ho, like a motherf-ckin dog ho
that’s what’chu gon be in yo next life, ain’t gon be no tomorrow
may i borrow your life? credit cards and id’s?
shades, watch, and rings? house keys and cars keys?
n-gga this the hate, you shoulda stayed afraid
but you had to turn ‘fraid, now you gon turn in yo braid
you gon turn on yo face, and lay it on the concrete
patna this the end, you shouldn’t have turned down the wrong street

(verse 3, project pat)
they know i’m real wit it
don’t play, will get it
off with his head, fifty shots, bet i will hit it
suckers couldn’t deal with it so they started tattlin
snakes that i broke bread with started rattlin
paddlin my head above water, knock yo doors in
got the boy for two cakes, talkin bout he gon’ do me in
sniper rifles, desert rifles with bullets inside ’em
shoot n-ggas mama’s houses up to bring ’em out of hidin
playa i ain’t hidin, i’m cypress garden hallways
the crack in my hand, shotguns, and them sk’s
i stays off in the dark, off in them cuts
the boys car turned in the lot, and we shot it up

- project pat

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