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lirik lagu the projects – young roddy & jamaal

[intro]:
goodsense
we call it home, they call that sh*t the projects

[verse 1 * young roddy]:
uh, eviction notice on the do’ we had to pack it up
ridin’ dirty with them birdies got ’em shackled up
game over, time to rack ’em up
so many homies dead it got me tatted up
turkey bag, i’m still could smell it when it’s packaged up
that’s word to blood, just ask the plug i profit 10 a month
semi tucked cuz if you weak them goons’ll eat yo lunch
twistin’ blunts or twistin’ fingers fool like where you from?
subtract that bullsh*t, now money gettin’ up
my bro say that but trust no hoe, them hoes’ll set you up
p*ssin’, living wrong, crooked cops man they all corrupt
when fake n*ggas get exposed that’s when the jig is up
n*ggas k!ll they own brotha
say our skin the wrong color
i share my thoughts, i’m tryna put you on somethin’
in this white man world, i’m just tryna own somethin’
i keep it chilly chill, this one gon’ be a cold summer
had to take a risk, i told my jeweler freeze my wrist
they shoot to k!ll who tryna be they volunteer?
trapped in h*ll i pray we make it outta here
we call it home, they call that sh*t the projects
where it ain’t no rules and where we learn to box at
where the sun don’t shine and n*ggas slangin’ rocks at
tryna stay alive, that sh*t feel like job
they tryna clip my wings, they hate to see me fly
yeah, rolla
we call it home, they call that sh*t the projects
yeah, we call it home, they call that sh*t the projects

[verse 2 * jamaal]:
come up on this side, you learn to improvise
mental rolodex, them numbers memorized
every little move you make incentivized
be careful how you move, the judge penalize
f*ck them dirty cops, them b*tches wanna end your life
you bound to take some l’s, some n*ggas hit ya stash
f*ckin’ laws get behind you on the slab
and your prayers go up, “please don’t let ’em search the cab”
if they find it and it’s yours, take yo l!ck on yo behalf
if you don’t, that just tell what type of n*gga that you is
you don’t keep it square biz, you been lyin’ to them kids
but you ain’t real as you say you is
ridin’ dirty with jazz, see that’s my n*gga dawg
couple pops in the plas’ he had to get it off
back and forth to the campus i’m the school boy
bucket low, dope drip, but i don’t hug the block
jumpshot wet, hoopin’ on the blacktop
all my siblings fell victim to the crack rock
my sista shipped the habit, brotha shipped the habit
rest in peace my other brotha, sh*t, he couldn’t manage
comin’ up, watchin’ it all i was the baby boy
grandma laced me, then would say i was her favorite boy
she would take me outta class, come and fix my swag
went and copped the emmit smiths and brought me right back
now look at me, fresh as f*ck in my reeboks
me and lalala was kissin’ in the tree top
man i thought i was that n*gga back in 6th grade
nothin’ changed i’m still that n*gga to this very day
work harder at the wordplay, we gotta make it outta here
n*ggas try to take you out from tryna make it outta here
talk a little louder here, flow a little colder now
vibes all positive, goodsense we rollin’ now
yeah, see roddy that’s my muhf*ckin’ n*gga dog
way before this rap sh*t, that been my dog
area 31, hoe, you know my zone
they call that sh*t the projects, we call it home
area 31, hoe, you know my zone
they call that sh*t the projects, we call it home
[outro]:
we call it home, they call that sh*t the projects

- young roddy jamaal

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