North Memphis

Greetings, gritty poets of the pavement! Today, we’re tearing into Project Pat’s “North Memphis,” a 1999 Molotov cocktail of Memphis rap that’s less a track and more a street sermon over a hypnotic bassline. Picture this: it’s ’99, Patrick Houston—aka Project Pat—is 26, fresh from Hypnotize Minds’ orbit, laying down this intro for Ghetty Green in a haze of reefer and hustle. Crunk’s rising, Y2K looms, and he’s shouting out his turf. Let’s cruise through the lyrics, root them in their late-’90s dirt, and see why this still bangs through hip-hop like a Northside war cry.

Intro: “Yeah, it’s on for the 1-9-9-9 / Project Pat in this ho”

Pat storms in, and I’m grinning ear to ear. “1-9-9-9” isn’t just a year—it’s a battle flag, staking ’99 as his. “Project Pat in this ho” is raw bravado—unapologetic, Southern-fried. It’s ’99: Three 6 Mafia’s peaking (When the Smoke Clears drops next year), Pat’s out on bail from a robbery charge, and Hypnotize Minds is a Memphis dynasty. This intro’s a mic check for the streets, sharp as a switchblade.

Feeling & Idea: Defiance with a drawl. It’s an oath to his roots—shouting his turf’s name into the wind, chest puffed.

“Putting this ghetto bump in ya speaker / Hypnotize done made it / You know the business boy”

The mission’s clear, and I’m nodding. “Ghetto bump” is that bass—dirty, soul-shaking, a North Memphis heartbeat. “Hypnotize done made it” salutes Juicy J and DJ Paul’s empire—indie kings by ’99, outselling majors. “You know the business boy” is a sly nod—hustle’s the game, and Pat’s the preacher. In ’99, rap’s shifting—East vs. West fades, the South rises—and this is their gospel.

Feeling & Idea: Pride with a pulse. It’s a love letter to sound—cranking beats ‘til the walls shake.

Verse: “Breakin’ down some reefer, rollin’ up a sweet-ah / Ridin’ through the street-ah, chiefin’ like a heat-ah”

Pat paints the scene, and I’m there. “Breakin’ down some reefer” is ritual—weed’s the muse, “sweet-ah” the cigar’s embrace. “Ridin’ through the street-ah” is motion, freedom; “chiefin’ like a heat-ah” is smoke thick as defiance. It’s ’99: Pat’s North Memphis is rough—poverty, policing, pride—and this is his escape, raw and rhythmic.

Feeling & Idea: Ease meets edge. It’s a ride through chaos—cruising backroads, dreaming loud.

“Reefer got me nizzoid, object of them blue boys / Searchin’ my vehicle, breath smell of liquor”

The heat’s on, and I’m tense. “Nizzoid” is stoned slang—Pat’s high, vulnerable. “Blue boys” are cops, ever-present in ’99 Memphis, harassing Black hustle. “Searchin’ my vehicle” is violation; “breath smell of liquor” is the excuse. Pat’s fresh from jail—arrested ’96 for guns—and this is his life, sharp with truth.

Feeling & Idea: Rebellion with risk. It’s a clash with chains—feeling eyes on you, daring you to flinch.

“Mane, it’s Project Pat-ah, player from the sizzouth / Always pack the gat-ah, gold teeth in my mizzouth”

Identity drops, and I’m awed. “Project Pat-ah” is his crown—Memphis royalty. “Player from the sizzouth” is Southern swagger; “gat-ah” (gun) is survival, “gold teeth” his shine. In ’99, grillz are culture—Juicy J’s influence—and Pat’s flexing amid struggle, firm as steel.

Feeling & Idea: Grit with glory. It’s armor—badges worn, shining through scars.

“Hustle for the cheddar, tryna make it better / You respect the man, or you get’s a bloody sweater”

The hustle’s real, and I’m gripped. “Cheddar” is cash—Pat’s grinding for more. “Tryna make it better” is hope, fleeting; “respect the man, or you get’s a bloody sweater” is law—cross him, bleed. It’s ’99: North Memphis is kill-or-be-killed, and Pat’s the poet of that code.

Feeling & Idea: Drive with a threat. It’s chasing dreams, knowing stakes rise fast.

“Choppin’ up a ki’-ah, riding on twenty-ahs / Don’t you wanna be a player just like me-ah?”

The flex peaks, and I’m dazzled. “Choppin’ up a ki’-ah” is dope—kilo dreams, street wealth. “Riding on twenty-ahs” is rims, status; “don’t you wanna be a player” is the lure, Pat’s myth made flesh. It’s ’99: flash is king—Puffy’s shiny suits, Cash Money’s bling—and Pat’s Northside royalty.

Feeling & Idea: Ambition with allure. It’s craving that strut, bold and free.

“Hanging out with killers, creeping on ah come up / Like the ones before me, dog, I’m tryna blow up”

The stakes rise, and I’m riveted. “Hanging out with killers” is crew—danger’s family. “Creeping on ah come up” is the grind, quiet and fierce; “like the ones before me” nods to Memphis OGs—Eightball, MJG. “I’m tryna blow up” is the goal, raw hunger. In ’99, Pat’s on the cusp—Ghetty Green drops September 14—and this is his spark.

Feeling & Idea: Hunger with heritage. It’s stalking a rise, roots deep.

Chorus: “North Memphis, North Memphis / Where them killers hang / North Memphis, North Memphis / Where that work at”

The hook thumps, and I’m chanting. “North Memphis” is place—Hyde Park, Douglass, a hard-knock cradle. “Where them killers hang” is truth—violence looms; “where that work at” is hustle—dope, dreams, survival. In ’99, it’s Pat’s anthem—a street psalm over Juicy’s beat—and it’s eternal.

Feeling & Idea: Home with a howl. It’s a flag—yelling one’s ground’s name, proud and fierce.

Historical Context & Impact

Why does it thunder? In 1999, rap’s fracturing—Biggie and Pac are ghosts, East-West wars cool, and the South storms in. Ghetty Green (September 14, #52 Billboard) rides Three 6’s wave—Mystic Stylez birthed Memphis rap, now it’s mainstream. “North Memphis” isn’t a single but a cult call—gold-certified (500k sold), it’s Pat’s DNA: raw, regional, real. Crunk’s brewing (Lil Jon’s next), trap’s seeds sprout (T.I.’s coming), and this plants the flag—Gucci Mane, Future, every Southern spitter owes it. Today, it’s a relic that roars—phonk remixes, TikTok nods keep it alive.

Final Takeaway

So, blast “North Memphis” and feel it hit. It’s Pat proving a Northside hustler can outsmart us—and steal our souls. It’s a love song to the grind, and I’m its wide-eyed convert.

This song is a classic.