Don’t Turn Around Lyrics

[Verse 1]
I only fuck with those who only fuck with me
A sucker play for games, a man play for keeps
I keep's me a nine millimeter just in case
A coward's in my face
These bullets he gone taste
A waste of your life, stepping wrong, I'm on trees
Best to leave me alone, best to go make some cheese
N-O-Mes come in all shapes, forms, sizes, colors
Could be your best friend, cousin, or brothers

I'll rob them all, just to see who got the fattest stack
Walked in the bank, put the loot in the cul-de-sac
Slapped on the guard four times for 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 with me


[Hook: repeat 2X]
Don't turn around (Give me the fucking cheese trick)
Don't make a sound (Show me where the keys at)
Lay it on the ground (knowing that your pockets fat)
Fore' I buck you down (and I'm quick's to do that)

[Verse 2]
Nigga starting bragging in his hood about the robbery
Wasn't long then 'fore somebody dropped a dime on me
I'mma be the one they can't get to, they picked the boy up
Run his mouth just like a fool, he gone get me fucked up
But I'mma have to get to him before the police do-a
Caught up with him night and day, locked him and his crew up
Sprang down Chelsea Ave. kind of in the evening
For this motherfucker's death, dawg I was fiendin
He was looking at me strange, like I'mma catcher
I done hopped out with the thang, let me holler at'cha
Fool, where you been dog? (My momma got sick, man)
Fuck that got to do wit'chu? (Hold up I ain't your bitch, man)
I heard you been talking, your muthafucking 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 trigger with the gun to his forehead
[Hook]

[Verse 3]
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 nigs
They done found my whereabouts, bouts' to do me in
Kicking in the front door, and I was in the den
SK was under the couch, snatched 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 infra-beam
Rifle bullet threw my throat, choking, hit the floor
Gunpowder in my mouth, knocking heaven's door
Street life done took me out, and that shit ain't fake
I done fucked myself off, cause of a bad mistake

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About

Genius Annotation

Project Pat tells a story of being a notorious robber who plays no games. When you feel that pistol to your back, your best bet is to shut up and give him what he wants.

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Credits
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Written By
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Copyright ©
Phonographic Copyright ℗
Release Date
2003
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