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Dont Turn Around Video (MV)






Project Pat - Dont Turn Around Lyrics




[Project Pat:]
I only f*ck with those
Who only f*ck with me
A sucka play fa games
A mane play fa keeps
I keeps me a 9mm juss incase
A cowards in my face
These bullets he gon' taste
A waste of yo life
Step an Roll I want cheese
Best ta leave me alone
Best ta go, make some cheese
In no means comin' all shake
Full size colors
Could be yo best friend, cousin' or brothas
I'll rob em all
Just ta see who's got tha fatest stack
Walked in tha back
Put tha lou in tha coco sack
Slap on tha guard
4 times, for he passed out
Eyes on tha blow an my pockets was assed out
Had on a trench coat
Wig an some goggles
If an you rezist
You may not see tomorrow
I'm in there, outta there
Tha police couldn't get me
But I made a slip up
Hadda trick wit me

[Chorse x2:]
Don't turn around
Gimme tha f*ckin' cheese trick
Don't Make a sound
Show me where them keys at
Lay it on tha ground
I'm knowin' that cha pockets fat
For I buck you down
An I'm quick ta do dat

[Project Pat:]
Niggas started braggin' in this hood
Bout tha robbery
Wasn't long then
For somebody dropped a dime on me
I'ma be tha one
They taken to ta pick tha boy up
Run his mouth just like a fool
He gon' get me f*cked up
But, I'm gon' hafta get to em
For tha police do
I caught up wit em night an day
Light him an his crew up
Sprang deli chess an el
Kinda in tha evenin'
Four these mo F*ckas delt
Dawg I was feelin'
He was lookin' at me straing
Like I'ma catch ya
I done hopped out
With that thang
Lemme holla at cha fool
Where ya been dawg
(My mama got sick mane)
Tha f*ck that got ta do wit chu
(hol' up I ain't cho bitch mane)
I heard you been talkin'
Yo mo F*ckin' lips loose
(Naw, it ain't like that dawg)
(I ain't no damn fool)
Look em in his eyes
I can see that he was so scared
I squeeze on tha trigga
With tha gun to his fourhead

[Chorse x2:]
Don't turn around
Gimme tha f*ckin' cheese trick
Don't Make a sound
Show me where them keys at
Lay it on tha ground
I'm knowin' that cha pockets fat
For I buck you down
An I'm quick ta do dat

[Project Pat:]
Blew tha top out his skull
Now, they want me dead
All tha niggas in his hood
Police an tha Feds
Stand out tha West Wood way
Out otha side
On tha otha side a town
Somewhere I can hide
I done through my life away
Haun-ted by them Pizz
Robbin' every otha day
Drops in off my nig
They done found my where abouts
Bouts to do me in
Kickin' in tha front door
An I was in tha den
S-K was unda tha couch
Snatched it off tha wam
Open fire on them hos
I didn't give a damn
Blood stringles full a dope
Poured off coco leaf
Feds heavy on a scope
An, an emfa bead
Rifle bullet through my throut
Chokin' hit tha floor
Gun powder in muh mouth
Knockin'heaven's door
Street life done took me out
An that shit ain't fake
I done f*cked myself off
Cause a bad mistake

[Chorse x2:]
Don't turn around
Gimme tha f*ckin' cheese trick
Don't Make a sound
Show me where them keys at
Lay it on tha ground
I'm knowin' that cha pockets fat
For I buck you down
An I'm quick ta do dat
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




[Project Pat:]
I only f*ck with those
Who only f*ck with me
A sucka play fa games
A mane play fa keeps
I keeps me a 9mm juss incase
A cowards in my face
These bullets he gon' taste
A waste of yo life
Step an Roll I want cheese
Best ta leave me alone
Best ta go, make some cheese
In no means comin' all shake
Full size colors
Could be yo best friend, cousin' or brothas
I'll rob em all
Just ta see who's got tha fatest stack
Walked in tha back
Put tha lou in tha coco sack
Slap on tha guard
4 times, for he passed out
Eyes on tha blow an my pockets was assed out
Had on a trench coat
Wig an some goggles
If an you rezist
You may not see tomorrow
I'm in there, outta there
Tha police couldn't get me
But I made a slip up
Hadda trick wit me

[Chorse x2:]
Don't turn around
Gimme tha f*ckin' cheese trick
Don't Make a sound
Show me where them keys at
Lay it on tha ground
I'm knowin' that cha pockets fat
For I buck you down
An I'm quick ta do dat

[Project Pat:]
Niggas started braggin' in this hood
Bout tha robbery
Wasn't long then
For somebody dropped a dime on me
I'ma be tha one
They taken to ta pick tha boy up
Run his mouth just like a fool
He gon' get me f*cked up
But, I'm gon' hafta get to em
For tha police do
I caught up wit em night an day
Light him an his crew up
Sprang deli chess an el
Kinda in tha evenin'
Four these mo F*ckas delt
Dawg I was feelin'
He was lookin' at me straing
Like I'ma catch ya
I done hopped out
With that thang
Lemme holla at cha fool
Where ya been dawg
(My mama got sick mane)
Tha f*ck that got ta do wit chu
(hol' up I ain't cho bitch mane)
I heard you been talkin'
Yo mo F*ckin' lips loose
(Naw, it ain't like that dawg)
(I ain't no damn fool)
Look em in his eyes
I can see that he was so scared
I squeeze on tha trigga
With tha gun to his fourhead

[Chorse x2:]
Don't turn around
Gimme tha f*ckin' cheese trick
Don't Make a sound
Show me where them keys at
Lay it on tha ground
I'm knowin' that cha pockets fat
For I buck you down
An I'm quick ta do dat

[Project Pat:]
Blew tha top out his skull
Now, they want me dead
All tha niggas in his hood
Police an tha Feds
Stand out tha West Wood way
Out otha side
On tha otha side a town
Somewhere I can hide
I done through my life away
Haun-ted by them Pizz
Robbin' every otha day
Drops in off my nig
They done found my where abouts
Bouts to do me in
Kickin' in tha front door
An I was in tha den
S-K was unda tha couch
Snatched it off tha wam
Open fire on them hos
I didn't give a damn
Blood stringles full a dope
Poured off coco leaf
Feds heavy on a scope
An, an emfa bead
Rifle bullet through my throut
Chokin' hit tha floor
Gun powder in muh mouth
Knockin'heaven's door
Street life done took me out
An that shit ain't fake
I done f*cked myself off
Cause a bad mistake

[Chorse x2:]
Don't turn around
Gimme tha f*ckin' cheese trick
Don't Make a sound
Show me where them keys at
Lay it on tha ground
I'm knowin' that cha pockets fat
For I buck you down
An I'm quick ta do dat
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: JORDAN HOUSTON, PATRICK HOUSTON, PAUL BEAUREGARD
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management

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