Kool Keith - Lived In The Projects Lyrics
[kool keith]Yeah mother*****er.. thats right..The mother*****er in the house.. kool keith..***** all the bullshit, lets get to the real shit..Yeah..Your rhyme touch is soft kidLike a strippers ass with a touch of plasticWritin with a local styleTalkin about competitive shit you never masteredYouse a wannabe thug nigga, you aint bugged niggaI cut your *****-ass up, leave your legs under the rug niggaWho want the whiplash?Cigarette burns, broken face hair pinned up in a castMe standin on the top of your tour busButt-***** with a *****in hockey maskSlicin your cashmere with a sharp 7-up glassDont you know Im sick nigga? lick my dick nigga!Forty-four caliber killer gun-toterHide your kneecaps in a lexus motorPack your stomach in a compartmentOld dingy *****ed up bronx apartmentDont piss me off with a tec-9 loaded in a bullshit street argumentI dont care how hard you getYou just another man that never lived in the projects poppin shitYou aint stoppin shit, ***** that batman and robin shitAnd what block you withKneel down, make a nigga like you call me big ernestBake your intestines, throw your stomach in the furnaceWatch the thermostat, you aint no *****in fat catChorus: kool keith[sung] you never lived in the projects!You aint no drug dealer*repeat chorus 3x*[kool keith]Rude bwoy with a temper like a jamaican off a haitian boatCarribean ruckus - with an elvis wigSlap the piss out of one of you untalented rap mother*****ersBodyguards wont workWith a 30-shot car bomb under my dominican shirtSubmachine in the duffle bagWatchin sesame street with my daughter, peepin ernie and bertWith backstage passes, wearin a long trenchcoatGet morris in your projectsAnd jackson in a madison square garden concertReady for cbs and nbc, to do a big networkThe average guy, havin a product managerAnd a female publicist wearin a *****in bulletproof vestI got time for mother*****ers actin like elliot nessWinchester sawed off blow your rolex through your *****in chestSplatted body pieces while blood drips off your girls dressIm ready for more progressHave your head sent homeAnd a piece of your leg sittin on the record company deskExtort like a mad nigga western unionYou dont have a clue men how I get through men*repeat chorus 4x*
