"Lived in The Projects" is track #7 on the album Matthew. It was written by Keith Thornton;Kurt Matlin.
Yeah, motherfucker, thats right The motherfucker in the house, Kool Keith Fuck all the bullshit, lets get to the real shit, yeah
Your rhyme touch is soft kid like a strippers ass With a touch of plastic, writin' with a local style Talkin' about competitive shit you never mastered Youse a wannabe thug nigga, you aint bugged nigga
I cut your bitch-ass up, leave your legs under the rug nigga Who want the whiplash? cigarette burns Broken face hair pinned up in a AST Me standin' on the top of your tour bus
Butt naked with a fuckin' hockey mask Slicin' your cashmere with a sharp 7-up glass Dont you know Im sick nigga? Lick my dick, nigga Forty-four caliber killer gun toter
Hide your kneecaps in a Lexus motor Pack your stomach in a compartment Old dingy fucked up Bronx apartment Dont piss me off with a tec nine loaded in a bullshit street argument
I dont care how hard you get You just another man that never lived in the projects poppin' shit You aint stoppin' shit, fuck that Batman and Robin shit And what block you with, kneel down
Make a nigga like you call me Big Ernest Bake your intestines, throw your stomach in the furnace Watch the thermostat, you aint no fuckin' fat cat
You never lived in the projects You aint no drug dealer You never lived in the projects You aint no drug dealer You never lived in the projects You aint no drug dealer
Rude bwoy with a temper like a Jamaican off a Haitian boat Carribean ruckus with an Elvis wig Slap the piss out of one of you untalented rap motherfuckers Bodyguards wont work with a thirty shot car bomb
Under my Dominican shirt, sub machine in the duffle bag Watchin' sesame street with my daughter, peepin Ernie and Bert With backstage passes, wearin a long trench coat Get Morris in your projects and Jackson In a Madison Square Garden concert
Ready for CBS and NBC, to do a big network The average guy, havin' a product manager And a female publicist wearin' a fuckin' bulletproof vest I got time for motherfuckers actin' like Elliot Ness
Winchester sawed off blow your Rolex through your fuckin' chest Splatted body pieces while blood drips off your girls dress Im ready for more progress, have your head sent home And a piece of your leg sittin' on the record company desk Extort like a mad nigga Western Union You dont have a clue men how I get through men
You never lived in the projects You aint no drug dealer You never lived in the projects You aint no drug dealer
You never lived in the projects You aint no drug dealer You never lived in the projects You aint no drug dealer