T.I. - Project Steps lyrics

Old habit die hard huh Disrespect will not be disregarded partna You cross dat line I'm goin' off bout mine Man woman and child, no exception home boy no disrespect will be tolerated come hell or high water You understand that? Ya b**h! Bankroll mafia, hustle gang ova everythang n***a I got fake b**hes on my timeline s**a n***as in my rearview Wonder why I'm even wasting my time Even replying to letcha know I don't feel you f** '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 n***a to the heart Tote tools on the boulevard Its young n***as 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**in' wall Puss, you disrespectful n***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 n***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**hes in my timeline Hatin' n***as in my rearview I got naked b**hes 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**h is it, sh** Ay I’m too rich for this sh** but I’m too real to be tried n***a Going against me just like goin’ against God And I ain’t gotta make excuses I don't f** whoever, whatchu wanna do about it Thought not, f** around get crossed out You caught slippin' roll down on your a**, .45 start spittin' Goin' be a long day n***a I start trippin' Don’t be stickin' to the script, drive-by audition, wa**up 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**?” Boy you a ho ho, not just a little piece of p**y Betta watch your a** talkin', you don't me n***a holdup I’m just a project n***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 k** Yea, I’m a daddy, love my little girls But I’ll still check a b**h 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 n***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!