Project Steps (Explicit)

Project Steps (項目步驟) (Explicit) - T.I.

Old habit die hard huh

Disrespect will not be disregarded partna

You cross dat line I'm goin' off about mine

Man woman and child, no exception home boy

No disrespect will be tolerated come hell or high water

You understand that

Ya b**ch

Bankroll mafia, hustle gang ova everythang ni**a

I got fake b**ches on my timeline

Sucka niggas in my rearview

Wonder why I'm even wasting my time

Even replying to letcha know I don't feel you

F**k 'em

Dodging nothin' but a Fed case

Betta know it, tired of holdin' on to dead weight

Goin' let it go

Ain't no turnin' round lookin' back

I swear to God I'ma drop a gem like cookin' crack

And sell it hard

I'ma, Bankhead ni**a to the heart

Tote tools on the boulevard

It's young niggas in a stolen car

With expensive ambition and exquisite pistols we showin' off

Caught that line and we goin' off

And let his mom give a damn, who you goin' call

You violatin, we ain't lettin' nothin' go at all

We demonstrate and leave your brains on the f**kin' wall

Puss, you disrespectful ni**a, got that

I ain't neva been shot at, and I ain't shot back

Bossed up in a cool whip with a hot gat

And still got stacks from back from

What you know about that

I'm just a project ni**a on the front steps

And gettin' money is the concept

By any means, and the belt where the gun kept

I let that whole clip ride, till ain't one left in it

Try me, I'ma handle my business, handle my business

Try me, I'ma handle my business

Try me I'ma handle my business, try me

I got fake b**ches in my timeline

Hatin' niggas in my rearview

I got naked b**ches in the high rise

On the balcony so they could get a clear view

Of the city with my dick up in it

But in the morning won't remember which b**ch is it, sh*t

Ay I'm too rich for this sh*t but I'm too real to be tried ni**a

Going against me just like goin' against God

And I ain't gotta make excuses

I don't f**k whoever, whatchu wanna do about it

Thought not, f**k around get crossed out

You caught slippin' roll down on your a**, 45 start spittin'

Goin' be a long day ni**a I start trippin'

Don't be stickin' to the script, drive-by audition, wassup

Whatchu do for dough, guess you do it too slow

And by the looks of your stuff, you ain't doin' enough

I'm poppin' witnesses in the front, leave you in the dust

Kick in your door masked up like

Who in the f**k

Boy you a ho ho, not just a little piece of p**sy

Betta watch your a** talkin', you don't me ni**a holdup

I'm just a project ni**a on the front steps

And gettin' money is the concept

By any means, and the belt where the gun kept

I let that whole clip ride, til ain't one left in it

Try me, I'ma handle my business, handle my business

Try me, I'ma handle my business

Try me I'ma handle my business, try me

All I wanna do is go and chill

Take my mind off the ones I wanna go and kill

Yea, I'm a daddy, love my little girls

But I'll still check a b**ch like 'Pac did Lauryn Hill

Hey I ain't grow into it, I was born with it

Used to sell crack to the children of the corn

I'm the reason why your mama warned you

Pray you don't die before you make it to the street corner

I'm just a project ni**a on the front steps

And gettin' money is the concept

By any means, and the belt where the gun kept

I let that whole clip ride, til ain't one left in it

Try me, I'ma handle my business, handle my business

Try me, I'ma handle my business

Try me I'ma handle my business, try me