Lletres: Juvenile. Solja Rags. Livin In The Projects.

I'm a nigga from the third with a helluva nerve
And if you cross my line then you will get served
I win, lose or die this happens everyday
Muthafuckas get killed in this game I play

I put these hands on a nigga 'cuz he talk too much
He told my business to a bitch, I had to fuck him up
When I confronted this nigga, he got highly upset
Took off his shirt, booted up, then looked down to my chest

So I slammed his ass, the nigga started to kick
I went to stompin' in his face, fuckin' up his shit
Gave him a good ass whippin', then I started to steppin'
I saw him reachin' in his pants, I seen he was stressin'

The niggas was stuntin' but I had mine
Five times through the chest, family outside cryin'
On the way back home, I saw this sharp ass lady
Polo down, hair fixed and some gold earrings

I asked just where she's headed, she said, "7th Ward"
Release the fine bitch out the St. Bernard
She hopped in the ride, I take the hoe to Popeye's
Got a three piece white, cold drink and small fries

The hoe got full, we went to the Rochambeaux
Took off her clothes and bust three nuts and after that I was through
Took her halfway home and told the bitch, "Get on"
Didn't give a fuck about her 'cuz I gave her the bone

Everyday somebody else will get, hung by the gaffler
Niggas roll down the ave. 'cuz I'm the neighborhood amp
Fuckin' around with the Juvenile and you get your brains blown out
'Cuz that's what livin' all up the project is all about