Whatever Ho Lyrics - Singles - Project Pat

DJ Paul: 

Yeah you muthafuckin' hoes 

Y'all know the muthafuckin' dead Hypnotize Camp and Profit Posse in this 

muthafucka 

Get one of these gold plaques on the wall before you talk some old 

muthafuckin' shit 

Bitch, it's whatever nigga 

We in this muthafucka for the 9-9, 9's to your head ho 

(Mafia, Mafia, Mafi-ya, ya, Mafia, Mafia, Mafi-ya, ya) 

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Juicy J: 

Glock 9's, Tech 9's, any kinda gun bitch 

Evergreen gats have got these cowards on the run bitch 

Kill 'em like they convicts 

Know they hear them guns click 

Doped up like a muthafucka (Cough, Cough, Snort) 

You could catch me in the same hood, on the fuckin' same block 

With a pearl Rolex watch, and a knot, and a glock 

9 o'clock clock nigga like to slang cuz I be hustlin' weight and 

We gon' put a end to you hoes and you niggaz hatin' 

Photos 

Lord Infamous: 

I'ma be every fuckin' piece of skrilla cheese out here I can make 

I'ma break every fuckin' bitch, fatalities that I can bring 

I'ma millie my pillie but killie, killin' everything that I wanna kill 

You weak ass niggaz don't want Lord Infamous from South Parkway to get ill 

Long from the norm, we get dumb with a bomb, with the guns you bitches y'all 

best get steel 

Scarecrow, Club House, yes it gets ill 

So, all y'all listen closely don't you ever forget 

Y'all wouldn't, Y'all never be shit with out us bitch 

Don't forget 

Cruchy Black: 

Killin' ain't shit 

Bitches ain't shit 

Niggaz ain't shit 

Bodies in a ditch 

How many niggaz done talked that shit 

About the Project fuckin' Pat, Thug Posse ya bitch 

Niggaz gon' talk, bitches gon' start 

Muthafuckaz gonna get they bodies in a trunk 

All I want is cash 

Muthafuckaz have 

Get down on your knees 

Gimme all your cash 

ScanMan: 

Whoa, muthafucka watch yourself, just watch your back 

Cause still we chillin' with Pat 

Straped with them gats 

Be ready to attack 

All you hatin' ass niggaz that wanna jump, yo punk what's up 

You better come up real with your muthatfuckin' shit, cause boy, it's gonna 

get rough 

Situation's gone bad, for you niggaz claimin' killaz 

Automatic triggaz pullin' drillin' holes inside your liver 

How you figure, I was gon' let you talk that shit and peep these streets 

Sayin' "That ScanMan boy's a bitch" know watch them throw lights out in my 

head 

DJ Paul: 

Killin', buckin', buckin up in Gunfire 

Bullets rickin' off the walls, nigga this is Warfare 

Suckaz claimin' they got nuts 

You don't know these elephants 

Specialize in takin' notes 

Specialize in nappy hoes 

Niggaz this is serious, I can't play no games no more 

Niggaz actin' curious, but I think they know the score 

Bitches know the Hypnotize medallion show what click you claim 

Hold it up strong, only those, who stay real, or maintain', in this game 

MC Mack: 

Alot of niggaz talk that shit and end up gettin' the wig split 

It's MC Mack, the nigga known for smackin', jackin', Cracker Jacks 

Busta ass nigga, run you mouth and get your ass blowed off 

Watch me put my ski mask on, come a gat back now trick now drop it off 

Shoot a super soaker in a minute don't you give a fuck about another nigga 

if he's speakin' use your counter attack 

Rollin' like a nigga smack a nigga like a nigga smack a bitch, you crump, 

you ain't no busta 

Ain't no love lost off in my heart, there's no place colder 

Won't you come a little closer nigga, you won't be rollin' our 

T-Rock: 

Socialists up actin' miss servin' sevens 

Have 'em in jail suspended, in the middle 

Started rivalries civil 

Homies swithin', actin' fickle 

But if you fuck with family ties, we leave you triple 

That nigga there know his gun a missle, Lord don't flash on him, only man 

ain't chival 

Erasin' ample businesses all in the name of the T-Rock 

Suckaz eat pot, swallow D, and get punished for three rocks 

Bangin' the hit stops, it won't be over, 'til your heat pops 

Away from the gravity, stand and point your a Tech and see him drop 

Gangsta Boo: 

Yeah I know, I know 

Down, down, baby goin' down, down 

Sweet dreams baby, Rock-a-bye baby 

Niggaz wanna run up, we be flexin' the Tech and 

Be pointed at ya we comin', and I bitch, I bet ya, I bet ya 

You wanna hit 'em, but nigga you an't forget 'em, forget 'em 

Because you sorry, and sorry ain't nothin' but venom 

I know bitches out there lovin' me, niggaz got dreams of fuckin' me 

Fuckin' me ain't the story gon' fuck you up more than me 

DJ Paul: 

It's whatever, whatever ho 

Whatever, whatever ho 

It's whatever, whatever ho 

Whatever, whatever ho 

It's whatever, whatever ho 

Whatever, whatever ho 

It's whatever, whatever ho 

Whatever, whatever ho 

It's whatever, whatever ho 

Whatever, whatever ho 

It's whatever, whatever ho 

Whatever, whatever ho 

It's whatever, whatever ho 

Whatever, whatever ho 

It's whatever, whatever ho 

Whatever, whatever ho 

It's whatever, whatever ho 

Whatever, whatever ho 

It's whatever, whatever ho 

Whatever 

Project Pat: 

Alot of gunfire, bustin' on you hoes to get my point across 

Ridin' in your hood and let the muthafuckin' bullets toss 

Tossin' me a berries pack, now I'm tossin' you some dramma 

Ridin' with my congregation, and we smokin' on marijuana 

If you wanna go to war with us, we prepared to bust 

Caught that niggaz slippin' at his place, shot him in his face 

Now I race, from the scenery, blowin' on greenery 

Know I got a temper but you tricks wanna be mean to me 

It's the weak, told to tell 'em, Julius Caesar, how he rolls 

Newspaper, told to tell 'em, how he just got lnocked of his toes 

You should know, that we rollin' deep, hittin' like a train 

Kiss the floor, don't be lookin' dumb cause I don't explain 

I maintain, killaz catchin' drinks, Project cathin' cappers 

Shootin' at your muthafuckin' lane, they be catching vapors 

Playa Haters, violatiers, bullshiters, this for y'all 

Boy I keep a big gun, you don't want none