Don't Turn Around Lyrics - Project Pat

I only f**k wit those, who only f**k wit me 

A sucka' play for games, a man play for keeps 

I keeps me a nine millimeter just in case 

A coward's in my face 

These bullets he gon taste 

A waste of your life, steppin' wrong, im on trees 

Best ta leave me alone, best ta go make some cheese 

Enemies come in all shapes, forms, sizes, colors 

Could be your best friend, cousin, or brothers 

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I'll rob'em all, just to see who got the fatty stack 

Walked in the bank, put the loot in the codauh sack 

Slapped on the guard four times fo' he passed out 

Eyes on that 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, I den dared the police couldn't get me 

But I made a slip up: had a trick wit me. 

Chorus X2: 

Don't turn around (Give me the f**kin' cheese trick) 

Don't make a sound (Show me where them keys at) 

Lay it on the ground (knowing that your pockets fat) 

Fore' I buck you down (and I'm quicks' to do that) 

Nigga starting braggin' in his hood bout the robbery 

Wasn't long then, fore' somebody dropped the dime on me 

Im'a be the one they can't get to, they picked the boy up 

Run his mouth just like a fool, he gon' get me f**ked up 

Photos 

But, Im'a have to get to him before the police do-a 

Caught up with him night and day, not him and his crew-a 

Sprang down Chelsie Ave. kinda in the evening 

For this muhf**kas death, dawg I was fiend'n 

He was looking at me strange, like Im'a catcha 

I done hopped out with the thang, lemme holla at'cha, 

Foo, where you been dog? (My momma got sick, main!) 

F**k that got to do wit'chu? (Hold up I ain't your bitch, main!) 

I heard you been talking your muh-f**kin' 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 trigga with the gun to his fo'-head. 

(Chorus x2) 

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 nig 

They done found my whereabouts, bouts' to do me in 

Kickin' in the front door, and I was in the den 

SK was under the couch, snatch 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 infrared beam 

Rifle bullet threw my throat, chokin', hit tha flo' 

Gunpowder in my mouth, knockin' heavens door 

Street life done took me out, and that shit ain't fake 

I done f**k myself off, cause a bad mistake