Project Pat - Don’t Turn Around lyrics

I only fuck with those who only fuck with me
A sucker play for games, a man play for keeps
I keep's me a nine millimeter just in case
A coward's in my face
These bullets he gone taste
A waste of your life, stepping wrong
I'm on trees best to leave me alone
Best to go make some cheese
N-O-Mes come in all shapes, forms, sizes
Colors could be your best friend, cousin
Or brothers i'll rob them all
Just to see who got the fattest stack
Walked in the bank
Put the loot in the cul-de-sac
Slapped on the guard four times
For he passed out
Eyes on the blow and my pockets was assed out
Had on a trench coat, wig and some goggles
If'n you resist, you may not see tomorrow
I'm in there, outta there
The police couldn't get me
But I made a slip up had a trick with me
Don't turn around
(Give me the fucking cheese trick)
Don't make a sound
(Show me where the keys at)
Lay it on the ground
(knowing that your pockets fat)
Fore' I buck you down
(and I'm quick's to do that)

Nigga starting bragging in his
Hood about the robbery
Wasn't long then 'fore somebody dropped
A dime on me
I'mma be the one they can't get to
They picked the boy up
Run his mouth just like a fool
He gone get me fucked up
But I'mma have to get to
Him before the police do-a
Caught up with him night and day
Locked him and his crew up
Sprang down Chelsea Ave kind
Of in the evening
For this motherfucker's death
Dawg I was fiendin
He was looking at me strange
Like I'mma catcher
I done hopped out with the thang
Let me holler at'cha
Fool, where you been dog?
(My momma got sick, man)
Fuck that got to do wit'chu?
(Hold up I ain't your bitch, man)
I heard you been talking
Your muthafucking lips loose
(Nah, it ain't like
That dawg i ain't no damn fool)
Looking in his eyes
I could see that he was so scared
I squeezed on the trigger with
The gun to his forehead

Blew the top out his skull
Now they want me dead
All the niggas in his hood, police
And the feds
Stepped out of Westwood, way out of the side
On the other side of town
Somewhere I can hide
I done threw my life away
Hunted by them by pigs
Robbing every other day, drops in off my nigs
They done found my whereabouts
Bouts' to do me in
Kicking in the front door
And I was in the den sK was under the couch
Snatched it off the wham
Open fire on them hoes, I didn't give a damn
Blood stream was full of dope
Pump off coca leaf
Feds had me under a scope, and an infra-beam
Rifle bullet threw my throat, choking
Hit the floor
Gunpowder in my mouth, knocking heaven's door
Street life done took me out
And that shit ain't fake
I done fucked myself off
Cause of a bad mistake