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Verse 1 Young Buck Tha sound of gunshots, the smell of swisha-sweets Ki's of co-caine is all a nigga see (K'Yeah) And all these niggas be lookin' fo' a lick to hit 'Cause it don't look like we livin' these bricks to quit (Nah) On dem hot summa nites we be servin' the white (Aiight) On dem cold winta days we be shootin' A.K's You ain't safe 'round homie, you on the yard It's everyman fo' himself nigga, livin' is hard (Git moneyy) You see the cars, the brauds, the ghetto super stars Some niggas got money and fo'got who they are (Bitch) We rob, kill, steal, whateva (Aye yo Donn, when ya gittin' out the hood?) - Neva My people need me, my heart is still here And even tho police be hatin' I'm still here (Still here) I'm standin' on this corner 'till my pockets bigger I'm goin' to my grave as a Project Nigga Chorus Young Buck w/ Prodigy You can take me out the hood, but the hood still in me A Project Nigga 'till Tha Lord come git me (Yo we hood niggas, project niggas, everybody know we some ghetto ass niggas) You can take me out the hood, but the hood still in me A Project Nigga 'till Tha Lord come git me (Straight hood niggas, project niggas, y'all betta know we some ghetto ass niggas) Verse 2 Prodigy Triple threat, VIP, Tha Don P., bitch git a look at his arms We megastars, we got bullet-proof cars And we ridin' in dem shits, wit' the guns in the trunk Dome, is the only thang we smoke I ain't pickin' seed out my weed since 9-4 In New York, Tha Projects is where we feel safe Surrounded by the others like us, we embrace All the bullshit, git you niggas a void This is our life, we ain't got no choice We enjoy ourselves in the middle of hell Shots poppin', niggas mite run up on you wit' and tell Blow you away, you'll die witcha gun on ya waist Half assed in a bare cold case Nigga you ain't got strength like Tha Mobb and G-Unit In the ghetto, my niggas rear run up in ya place Chorus Verse 3 Havoc Aye yo Tha thangs that I go thru, these niggas, they stay hatin' They blood, I can taste it, Buck I'm losin' my patience And fuck this rap shit, dudes got it fucked up boi Don't ya know we gittin' money so we got more toys? I fucked ya bitch and think nuthin' of it, and I Got mad drama but we still out clubbin' We still out gunnin', dumpin' mad clips Homie we got this, and y'all ain't have this Baby ain't nuthin', you know I'm spittin' that crack shit Like I'm still on the block, picture police flippin' Like I'm still in the kitchen cookin', workin' that Trip Beam Have fiends baggin', watch dem lick the plate clean Do this fo' my niggas up North from dem State Greens Bustin' dem hammers fo' clippin' in the sing-sing All my hood niggas don't worry just maintain You know whudd it is, G-Unit what I bang