Fat Pat - Gangsta Strut Freestyle lyrics

[Fat Pat] When we put it down, yeah we do it G style It's the P-A-T (P-A-T) sippin' through my freestyle Talkin' bout that grindin', bumper kit reclinin' Yellow hoes mindin I'm comin' down, and it's Texas rollin' on 4's It's the Fat Pat I'mma roll down slow Knock 'em down, knock 'em off, slam my candy do' In my gangsta strut Like we (?) crooks I'm still rollin' bumpers, kid, I don't give a f** Let me bend 'em down Pop trunks around Young n***a throw down the pistol wooded surround In my damn trunk I ain't no crunk Still hangin' wit that boy Wood, Corey Blount Me and Big Moe's comin' down in the Jag Wing on the brag when the punks leather made Cus we gonna wreck with (?) for the nine-six Comin' down slow on choppas in the mix Still up in the game Ain't nothin' changed Gotta bigger name Now I got fame What they wanna do? Still f**in' with the Screw It's that P-A to the T, yeah n***a thought you knew You can't play a G, can't see me from a long long way In the sky, so high on cloud nine Man, ho, you a young player stayin' down Watch me up in the corner Blowin' marijuana Rollin' with that Pat in the Lincoln With they blinker turner blinking In the turning lane Swanged out ride cus we on 4's. mane Roll down OST When you n***as see me Still rollin' drop-tops with that voice-CB Yeah they want it good, we still ride real A lot of my homies yeah they gone and dead But you gotta get it, yeah you gotta grind I'mma put it down, gotta get mine Ain't gonna trip, role Moe's ship This time I'm comin' 19s with this grip on the grind Callin' on 4's watch a young player cryin' Fog lights on Grippin' till dawn On my mobile phone On the way home My partner in the f**in 'crib Fat Pat yeah you know the name is straight (?) Livin' in the (?) Another f**in' story You know the Pat ain't never gon' worry Ridin' n***as (?) straight drinkin' Comin' down (?) yeah that n***a now they blinking Hit the damn lock, lookin' so blue Rode my Alberta Impala at the hood Wa**up with the ward Wa**up Hiram Clarke Wa**up Third Ward Wa**up South Park Wa**up Southwest Smokin' on the stress Comin' down a slab, man the slab is dressed Two a f**in' (?) a nice big grid Popped up with the size desk on the crib We gon' wreck the mic We up in your sight Don't give a damn if you hate us in the night Why we grip down? Cus we like six deep Swangas and Blades out here on the creep Choppin' boys up Swangin' boys up Poppin' on the trunk and I don't give a f** Huh, in the gangsta strut