[Intro: Project Pat]
Yeah, Project Pat up in this thang thang
Crook by the book, the Fed story, y'all know how we do
We do it like it sposed to be done
The dirty dirty strapped with the gun
Y'all know how we ride, homicide
Y'all know how we do, 187 on a punk
Y'all know how we get down, let the bullets start talkin
Thats how we do the walkin, y'all know how we get down
North, north, north, north, north, north (Gangsta Grillz)
[Verse 1: Project Pat]
Patty cake, patty cake, stack the money off the plates
In a field, you remain, you gon make me keep the blades
Fuck ya boys, bring the noise, smoke you like a kush bubble
I'm the president of drama, guess you get some kush trauma
Haters hurl up, lighten up 'cause they broke niggas
Hittin up a punk, cut his throat, call them folk niggas
Hurt your mouth, hot in these streets, hood bang ya
Ride by your house with the K, let it bang ya
Project Pat still in business for some big cutty
Niggas get to screamin out to God when that lead cutting
If ya think ya quick, Drama go then ya pull it
I'm head butting suckas in the head with these bullets
[Chorus: B.G.]
Now if ya want it, ya can get it, no prob
The Glock go blocka, blocka, blocka, bloaw
Now if ya want it, ya can get it, I ain't trippin
It's 187 on a motherfuckin fool
Now if ya want it, ya can get it, no prob
The Glock go blocka, blocka, blocka, bloaw
Now if ya want it, ya can get it, I ain't trippin
It's 187 on a motherfuckin fool
[Verse 2: 8Ball]
Big hat, low walkers, low custom fours-oh
Put my pants down back, pockets almost all the flow
I don't wanna touch it but if that boy out in public
If a nigga disrespect it then the trigger is the subject
Take it how ya wanna take it, test it then see if was fake
Lookin at your mama from the casket cryin at the wake
I make dough, pimp niggas like we bake the cake
Sit up in restaurants and get my fill on big ol steaks
I hope I'm never that poor nigga seein blood runnin
Can't bleed 'cause the shots took away half your tummy
On your knees beggin "Lord please, not now"
Knock on wood, count your blessings while you still around
[Chorus: B.G.]
Now if ya want it, ya can get it, no prob
The Glock go blocka, blocka, blocka, bloaw
Now if ya want it, ya can get it, I ain't trippin
It's 187 on a motherfuckin fool
Now if ya want it, ya can get it, no prob
The Glock go blocka, blocka, blocka, bloaw
Now if ya want it, ya can get it, I ain't trippin
It's 187 on a motherfuckin fool
[Verse 3: MJG]
Look, look into the rearview
Nigga followin me, gotta smash on the gas
No, fuck that, slam on the brakes
Jump out wit the pump and blast on his ass
Pimp tight, MJG
You ain't gon be ready when I come with the fo-fo
In the low-low, makin everybody get out the way
And I ain't playin with ya no more
Go and get the whole neighborhood, the motherfucker still roll by
Still gon splatter blood all over anything that ya stand by
I work for Pat mothafucka, me and man, I put in some work
I did my dirt, I did some bad, I did some good
You can bring in any kinda way ya wanna bring it boy
I don't think ya really wanna bring it to the hood
Go bring yo bitch, do yo thang
Then it don't matter 'bout who you claim
It don't really matta what another mothafucka do
And when its all over with, you the man
Dont make a nigga get buck with the AK
Cuz it may spray and it may shoot and it may hit
Anybody that ya live or you stay wit
Just how worse than the average day, get that shit
[Chorus: B.G.]
Now if ya want it, ya can get it, no prob
The Glock go blocka, blocka, blocka, bloaw
Now if ya want it, ya can get it, I ain't trippin
It's 187 on a motherfuckin fool
Now if ya want it, ya can get it, no prob
The Glock go blocka, blocka, blocka, bloaw
Now if ya want it, ya can get it, I ain't trippin
It's 187 on a motherfuckin fool