Intro:

DJ Unique. We need to take 'em back to the projects, man.
Like 1988. Let me hit somethin' real quick. Mmmmm Hmmmm. Oh what? what? what? what? what? what? what?
what? what? what? what? what? what? what? what? what?

what? what? what? what?
wha........? We are way too strong.

Chrous:

(We in the projects projects, heeeyyyyy, yeah)
I'm thuggish ruggish and way too strong, yeah.
I'm thuggish ruggish and way too strong.
(We in the projects projects, heeeyyyyy, yeah)
I'm thuggish ruggish and way too strong, I said
way too strong, i said way too strong.
(We in the projects projects, heeeyyyyy, yeah)
I'm thuggish ruggish and way too strong, yeah.
I'm thuggish ruggish and way too strong.
(We in the projects projects, heeeyyyyy, yeah)
I'm thuggish ruggish and way too strong, way too
strong, way too strong, way too strong...

Verse 1: ('what?, what?' repreated in rhythm in background)

Somebody hide my homeboy, and i'm prayin' those same old
enemies try some
drainel things. One of my friend's is comin' with or without ya.
Plus i'm to flip out, then dissappear in the rain.
Those sucka'z can sue me, do me, ain't seen a thing.
Prison may make me loyal, murda may make me scream.
I been bustin' with regime, fiend gonna rob me.
For the love of money, cash all's around me.
Rebel with a cause with a sawed off buck shot,
good side, pass off five (if i) shot that boss,
glass eye go cock, cock, glock. Watch man's life shall squash.
Now i've stuck like war, pump like war, pump like war, (pump like war)..
And so you wanna follow me for triple dollar bills? What's your salary?
You can holler and then go fall when you talk. Then you go
bustin down the door on the general, when the federal general's
on a mission.

(chorus 2x)

Verse 2: ('what?, what?' repeated in rhythm in background)

Projects like Y-A, sell rocks, slide in my low-low, fo' sho'.
Grab my pesos, compadre. Slow down, (aww shit).
Don't take my photo, in a mo-mo, lookin' out the window with a four-four.
Why you roll solo? Cuz don't nobody know what i know, fo' sho'.
Buy my weed hoes, Little Eazy tell Jesus to let me be.
I drink Hennessey till i can't see. Where's my regime?
Smack, Pennsylvania, my ends low, i'm still in my Lexus smokin' perfectos,
pumpin' petro. Baby, let's go, I got death notes,
Till the rap flows, in the wind (wind), tinted up again (again),
in '89 on twins (twins). Tell my secret to the moonlight,
praise God makin' my tomb right.
To my friends, hop out the Benz if you are envious of my ends.

(chorus 2x)

Verse 3: ('what?, what?' repeated in rhythm in background)

Envious (envious), well they're just no-one (just no-one).
Envious (envious), well they're just no-one (just no-one).
Envious (envious), well they're just no-one (just no-one).
Envious (envious), remember, remember, remember?
End it all for the kids,
mama wanna know what I did when I had no place to live.
Addicted to Ghetto violence, me and my nigs,
gimme a swig, kick that (ssshhhh).
And the devil strikes on the runway to L.A.
I remember the day, with Little Eazy and Krayzie.
History in the makin', finally made it.
Man I can't wait to get paid and I signed at 17.
Fuckin with my thugs, we thought we had it made.
I better wake up. But I was young and drunk off the Henn,
and so were my friends. Then I ended up broke with platinum records.
No not again. Then, then, then, then, then will the end begin.
Nobody knows, cuz bitches don't suppose, and it might be 1999,
Then it might be 2004. Baby let's roll for the 17th sign
(seven, seven, seven, seven).
Man they don't know, I started this in '85.

(chorus 2x)