album cover
On N***a
4,900
Pop
On N***a was released on July 16, 2002 by LOUD/Columbia as a part of the album Layin' Da Smack Down (Explicit Version)
album cover
Release DateJuly 16, 2002
LabelLOUD/Columbia
LanguageEnglish
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Project Pat
Project Pat
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, Mixing Engineer, Recording Engineer
Juicy J
Juicy J
Producer, Mixing Engineer, Recording Engineer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Hello, hello
(Man, Pat, what's up, man?)
What's up, ****?
(Man, these **** done came up in the motherfuckin' crib)
(And got me for my shit, dawg)
Yeah, man, uh, what if I told you I was that ****?
(Man, quit playin', though, for real, though, man)
Nah, you ain't hearin me, dawg, I got your muhfuckin' shit, ****
What the fuck you gon' do about it?
(Fuck you, ****, I'll see you, boy)
[Verse 2]
As a youngster, guns up, what I specialize in
Me and dawgs sellin' dope on the rising
Rising in years, we together in this hood life
Struggling' together straight prayin' for the good life
Your life means more to me than my own do
When you had some beef I went and shot on that whole crew
I do what I gotta do 'cause I'm your right hand
You's a lot older than me, I'm your little man
Man, time flies, now we on there to older
You been came up flippin' pebbles to boulders
Told you that I'm done with you until the graveyard
Me and you got caught with some work in the same car
You was facin' more time than me if behind bars
I was seventeen-and-a-half, so I took the charge
You got larger, heard now you own a crack house
I did two years, and they let a **** back out
[Verse 3]
Since you's a on ****, on ****, fuck wit' your boy
Knowin' good and well I grew up wit' your boy
You's a on ****, on ****, don't try to flodge
You gon' make a **** like me catch a charge
You's a on ****, on ****, fuck wit' your boy
Knowin' good and well I grew up wit' your boy
You's a on ****, on ****, don't try to flodge
You gon' make a **** like me catch a charge
[Verse 4]
Back out on the town and you ride in the Jag clang
Hit me wit' a pound, then bought me a Chevy thing
I coulda sang then, flew like the canary
You know I got heart, and I know you very scary
Carry a lot of weight, put in plenty work
Always was down for you, dawg, did plenty dirt
Lookin' like the jerk, and you livin' like a kingpin
That ain't showin' love
I'm about to stick this tone inside your fuckin' face
Blow your brains to the other side
.38 dumb-dumbs cut you like a butter knife
But inside the walls, you be soakin' up game quick
Fuck that guerrilla shit, trick, I done got slick
Remember you kept your dope backyard doghouse
Over there on Dunlap, North Memphis, mama house
Lookin' for the cross that'll come from behind you
Motherfuck the laws, 'cause I'm takin' what's mine's, uh
[Verse 5]
Since you's a on ****, on ****, fuck wit' your boy
Knowin' good and well I grew up wit' your boy
You's a on ****, on ****, don't try to flodge
You gon' make a **** like me catch a charge
You's a on ****, on ****, fuck wit' your boy
Knowin' good and well I grew up wit' your boy
You's a on ****, on ****, don't try to flodge
You gon' make a **** like me catch a charge
[Verse 6]
Moms went to church, so I'm jumpin' over gate fast
You, mane, was outta town handlin' business
Blew both Rottweilers out they misery
You get 'em fenced in good, so they couldn't see
Yeah, it's kind of obvious what I came for
Heroin and that white dust, ain't no shame, boy
A real robber robs a trick and don't say a word
Got 'em for a pound of heroin and 'bout eight birds
Mouth slurred 'cause a **** blowin' on some good shit
Celebratin' 'cause a playa done made a fat lick
Any trick do this to me, hollow points fly
Dead in the face, right between muhfucka's eye
I be's the **** bustin' if we in a brawl
I'm my ****'s backup, so who he call?
Me, damn fool, 'cause he knowin' that I'll buck 'em
I could play it off cool, but, mane, fuck 'em (Fuck these ****)
[Verse 7]
Since you's a on ****, on ****, fuck wit' your boy
Knowin' good and well I grew up wit' your boy
You's a on ****, on ****, don't try to flodge
You gon' make a **** like me catch a charge
You's a on ****, on ****, fuck wit' your boy
Knowin' good and well I grew up wit' your boy
You's a on ****, on ****, don't try to flodge
You gon' make a **** like me catch a charge
Written by: Jordan Houston, P. Beauregard, Patrick Houston
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