T.I. - Project Steps Lyrics
Old habit die hard huhDisrespect will not be disregarded partnaYou cross dat line I'm goin' off bout mineMan woman and child, no exception home boyno disrespect will be tolerated come hell or high waterYou understand that? Ya *****!Bankroll mafia, hustle gang ova everythang niggaI got fake *****es on my timelineSucka niggas in my rearviewWonder why I'm even wasting my timeEven replying to letcha know I don't feel you***** 'em!Dodging nothin' but a Fed caseBetta know it, tired of holdin' on to dead weightGoin' let it goAin't no turnin' round lookin' backI Swear to God I'ma drop a gem like cookin' crackAnd sell it hardI'ma, Bankhead nigga to the heartTote tools on the boulevardIts young niggas in a stolen carWith expensive ambition and exquisite pistols we showin’ offCaught that line and we goin’ offAnd let his mom give a damn, who you goin’ call?You violatin, we ain’t lettin’ nothin’ go at allWe demonstrate and leave your brains on the *****in' wallPuss, you disrespectful nigga, got thatI ain’t neva been shot at, and I ain't shot backBossed up in a cool whip with a hot gatAnd still got stacks from back from “What You Know About That?”[Hook:]I’m just a project nigga on the front stepsAnd gettin’ money is the conceptBy any means, and the belt where the gun keptI let that whole clip ride, till ain’t one left in itTry me, I'ma handle my business, handle my businessTry me, I'ma handle my businessTry me I'ma handle my business, try meI got fake *****es in my timelineHatin' niggas in my rearviewI got ***** *****es in the high riseOn the balcony so they could get a clear viewOf the city with my dick up in itBut in the morning won’t remember which ***** is it, shitAy I’m too rich for this shit but I’m too real to be tried niggaGoing against me just like goin’ against GodAnd I ain’t gotta make excusesI don't ***** whoever, whatchu wanna do about itThought not, ***** around get crossed outYou caught slippin' roll down on your ass, .45 start spittin'Goin' be a long day nigga I start trippin'Don’t be stickin' to the script, drive-by audition, wassupWhatchu do for dough, guess you do it too slowAnd by the looks of your stuff, you ain’t doin' enoughI’m poppin' witnesses in the front, leave you in the dustKick in your door masked up like, “Who in the *****?”Boy you a ho ho, not just a little piece of *****Betta watch your ass talkin', you don't me nigga holdup[Hook:]I’m just a project nigga on the front stepsAnd gettin’ money is the conceptBy any means, and the belt where the gun keptI let that whole clip ride, til ain’t one left in itTry me, I'ma handle my business, handle my businessTry me, I'ma handle my businessTry me I'ma handle my business, try meAll I wanna do is go and chillTake my mind off the ones I wanna go and killYea, I’m a daddy, love my little girlsBut I’ll still check a ***** like ‘Pac did Lauryn HillHey I ain’t grow into it, I was born with itUsed to sell crack to the children of the cornI’m the reason why your mama warned youPray you don’t die before you make it to the street corner[Hook:]I’m just a project nigga on the front stepsAnd gettin’ money is the conceptBy any means, and the belt where the gun keptI let that whole clip ride, til ain’t one left in itTry me, I'ma handle my business, handle my businessTry me, I'ma handle my businessTry me I'ma handle my business, try me!
