"Project Windows" as written by Samuel Barnes, Jean Olivier, Al West, Carlos Broady, Nasir Jones and Nashiem Myrick....
Black hoods, cops 'n projects
Sewers flooded with foul blockage
The gutter's wild and every child watches
Changin' top locks with ripped off hinges

Doors kicked off, drunks stag off Smirnoff, wipe your beard off
Crippled dope fiends in wheelchairs stare
Vision blurry, cause buried deep in they mind are hidden stories
Bet he's a mirror image of that 70's era

Finished for the rest of his life, till he fades out
The liquor store workers miss him but then it plays out
So many ways out the hood but no signs say out
Mental slave-house where gats go off, I show off

Niggas up north, prison-ology talk, till they time cut off
You should chill if you short, prepare deep thought
To hit the street again, get it on, get this paper and breathe again
Plan to leave somethin' behind
So your name'll live on, no matter what the game lives on

[Chorus]
Lookin' out of my project window
Oh, I feel uninspired
Lookin' out of my project window
Oh, it makes me feel, so tired

Yo, if this piano's the cake then my words are the candles
Light it up, make a wish, and them angels will grant you
Impatient once tried, but in those angels and bamboo
They lit it up, hit it up, *puff*

Now they dismantled, think the whole world is crazy, got a 9
Watch where you walk, 2 dollar fine, sign of the times here in New York
Hi Satan, United Nations quietly taken, to own your soul
Take it or leave it, just my evaluation

Stack loot and guns, teach the girls karate, school your sons not to hate
But to stay awake, cause the scars a razor make is nothin' in comparison
To the gas left on this whole ma**, if we don't get it controlled fast
Might as well be, laughin' with Malcolm X's assassin as we die slow

Perishin', brain dead from a Erickson
Words are the medicine, two teaspoons for goons
A cup of it for those thuggin' it, y'all sing the tune

[Chorus]

Another day, another dollar, my mother will holla
She said "go and see the world for myself, and my brother Shafala"
Pops was smooth, from his top to his shoes
Sang the rules, guitar strings he played smokin' his ?

? hat, picture this yo, seventies cat
He wrote his music in the back of the crib, I did my homework
At night the windows were speakers, pumpin' life out
A fight, people screamin' cause somebody pulled a knife out

So I look at this poem, I'm hooked to this tune
Every night the same melody, hell sounded so heavenly
But jail was ahead of me, ?
Reading's what I should've done, cause my imagination would run

I was impatient to get out and become part of the noise out there
I used to stare, five stories down, basketball courts, shot up playgrounds
And I witnessed the murders and police shake-downs
Yo, the hustlers and hoes, drugs and fo-fos
This was the life of every kid, lookin' out project windows

Oh, outta my window
Lookin' out of my project window
Oh, it makes me feel, so tired
Lookin' out of my project window

Oh, I feel uninspired
Lookin' out of my project window
Oh, it makes me feel, so tired
Lookin' out of my project window

Oh, I feel uninspired
Starin out of, of my window
Oh I, feel so tired
Oh yeah, outta my window

Oh, lookin' out, lookin' out
Lookin' out my window, oh yeah
Makes me, feel so tired
Outta my window, out my project window
Lord I feel, uninspired


Lyrics submitted by spliphstar

"Project Windows" as written by Carlos Daronde Broady Nasir Jones

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group

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Project Windows song meanings
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    General CommentFirst off, I've gotta say that the typer of this song made several mistakes. you should listen to the song for yourself.


    This song is so memorable. A classic. Ron Isley is a G.

    Nas was incredibly poetic on this song. Some lines that really got me where:

    "Crippled dope fiends in wheelchairs stare
    vision blurry, cus buried deep in they mind are hidden stories"

    "Bet he's a mirror image of that 70's era
    finished for the rest of his life, till he fades out
    The liquor store workers miss him but then it plays out
    so many ways out the hood but no signs say out
    Mental slavehouse where gats go off, I show off
    niggas up north, prison-ology talk, till they time cut off
    "

    "Stack loot and guns, teach the girls karate, school your sons not to hate
    but to stay awake, cus the scars a razor make is nothin' in comparison
    to the gas left on this whole mass, if we don't get it controlled fast
    might as well be, laughin' with Malcolm X's assassin as we die slow
    perishin', brain dead from a Erickson
    Words are the medicine, two teaspoons for goons
    a cup of it for those thuggin' it, y'all sing the tune"



    Another day, another dollar, my mother would
    She said go and see the world for myself, and my brother should falla
    Pops was smooth, from his top to his shoes
    sang the blues, guitar strings he played smokin' his doo
    ? hat, picture this, yo, seventies cat
    He wrote his music in the back of the crib, I did my homework
    At night the windows were speakers, pumpin' life out
    a fight, people screamin' cus somebody pulled a knife out
    So I look at this room, I'm hooked to this tune
    every night the same melody, hell sounded so heavenly
    But jail was ahead of me, speeding like an amphedamine
    Realityon April 28, 2007   Link

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