Music Video

Weak N****z
Watch {trackName} music video by {artistName}

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Project Pat
Project Pat
Vocals
DJ Paul
DJ Paul
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jordan Houston
Jordan Houston
Songwriter
Patrick Houston
Patrick Houston
Songwriter
Paul Beauregard
Paul Beauregard
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
DJ Paul
DJ Paul
Producer
Juicy J
Juicy J
Producer

Lyrics

Gangsta g-g-gangsta, g-g-gangsta Gangsta g-g-gangsta, g-g-gangsta Gangsta g-g-gangsta, g-g-gangsta Gangsta, gangsta, weak niggaz perpetrate Gangsta, gangsta, weak niggaz perpetrate Gangsta g-g-gangsta, g-g-gangsta Gangsta g-g-gangsta, g-g-gangsta Gangsta g-g-gangsta, g-g-gangsta Gangsta, gangsta, weak niggaz perpetrate Gangsta, gangsta, weak niggaz perpetrate I grab my swatter I swat this bug, he laid to rest Fuckin' wit T-R-I-P-L, E-S-I-X Niggaz be talkin' but in the end I like fuck 'em up In the beginnin' they could've survived but they had no nuts Bitch where you graduated from, I said a school of hoe-in' 'Cause in yo face, off in the streets aint nothin' but hoe is showin' Too fuckin' light, too fuckin' light to try to fight Stick you with knives, shoot you with - nines and take yo life Yea we know you niggaz are fuckin' scared 'cause we don't play around Never wanna step 'cause Three 6 Mafia put you in the ground People say you buck but we all know that's just that liquor bro Niggaz swear you hype but all that hyper is from hittin' that snow If a member call me then I'm gonna pack my yawks and roll Ride down on yo block and close up shop and leave yo body cold Foo this ain't no game so tuck ya chain and coward hide yo grill High cappin' and dissin' in yo rappin' just might get ya killed They don't fuck wit you like ya fucked with them Yo pockets tore down from limb to limb You got no ends, now you got no friends Now its time to get the strap and go and do they ass in They don't fuck wit you like ya fucked with them Yo pockets tore down from limb to limb You got no ends, now you got no friends Now its time to get the strap and go and do they ass in Whachu doin' round hea? My nigga I gotta get ya Fresh outta jail-ie, my mind on bailin', so I split ya Head to the meet-ie, give to the needy so fuck the rest No understandin', Projects the greedy, ya could be next I'm robbin' victims with of the face of a? No hesitatin', I come out buckin' so watch the nine Off in East Memphis transactin' bizness I know you straight I'm buckin' you fakers who ain't got cheese, the ones I hate Could it be me, could it be somethin' in the fuckin' air Im seein' niggaz, them niggaz bodies flyin' everywhere You wanna know if the Lord is mackin' or a fuckin' player I'm keepin' all of you muthafuckas in my fuckin' prayers Everywhere that I go I'm gettin' all these evil stares I'm sick of all of these hatin' muthafuckas in my hair All in my bizness, God is my witness I don't even care Cause all you bitches you get the *blaah* died hell yeah They don't fuck wit you like ya fucked with them Yo pockets tore down from limb to limb You got no ends, now you got no friends Now its time to get the strap and go and do they ass in They don't fuck wit you like ya fucked with them Yo pockets tore down from limb to limb You got no ends, now you got no friends Now its time to get the strap and go and do they ass in Deep deep in them trenches of Memphis where I'm seriously pimpin' Da Koopsta da Knicca breakin' mo bitches than London got bridges Send this to you niggas so you besta listen well Touch me and you'll die see you can burn wit me in hell This hi-zo gi-zo-zy iz-I for you niggas that've lost it Spl-izat yi-zo iz-ass, will? off it Call Chris mane, shit dump 'em in a ditch Witness this wicked bit whipped up outta the Six riders My nigga CB he be back out here on these bricks again He kickin' in doors, he lookin' for him some dividends He kidnappin' hoes so he can make him some money mane And fuckin' wit him is like fuckin' wit somethin' different Ya gotta be tough, nigga ya gotta be rough Like ash to ash nigga, and dust to dust In gats we trust nigga, it really ain't much nigga 'Cause talkin' to us nigga, we blowin' ya up They don't fuck wit you like ya fucked with them Yo pockets tore down from limb to limb You got no ends, now you got no friends Now its time to get the strap and go and do they ass in They don't fuck wit you like ya fucked with them Yo pockets tore down from limb to limb You got no ends, now you got no friends Now its time to get the strap and go and do they ass in I'm smoked out, snorted out, drunken and I'm blown
Writer(s): Jordan Houston, Patrick Houston, Paul D Beauregard Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out