PYT or P.Y.T. may refer to:
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PYT was an American girl group from Florida that formed in 1998 and parted in 2002.
Ashley Dee Niven (born September 23, 1985), Lauren Courtney Mayhew (born November 27, 1985), Lydia Terez Bell (born February 25, 1986), and Tracy Margaret Williams (born May 22, 1986) had all been childhood friends and grew up together in the Tampa Bay area. They had previously performed together in the Tampa Bay's Entertainment Revue (through Busch Gardens). The band formed, as Glory, to enter a contest in Teen People magazine. They recorded a demo which instead of entering in the contest made its way to Dave McPherson of Epic Records who signed them to a record contract in 1999. The band was renamed P.Y.T. derived from a Michael Jackson song entitled "P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing)," though on some occasions the girls used the acronym "P.Y.T." to stand for the slogan "Prove Yourself True." Among the members of the group, Tracy Williams was the alto and sang lower harmonies, Lauren Mayhew and Ashley Niven were mezzo-sopranos and sang the melody line, and Lydia Bell was the soprano who sang higher harmonies. Ashley Niven was the lead vocalist on the tracks on the album PYT (Down With Me).
A hundred miles and running, niggers going at the end
of me
Niggers switching sides, give me nothing like it’s the
end of me.
Niggers having family, but I know these niggers into
Pown me, thug it to the motherfucker sin is me.
Imma train the topic time down, bitch, I’m riding in a
‘rarri.
If you don’t like me, than I’m sorry.
I ain’t og, I’m just being me, fucking pretty clear.
I rap about this shit, ‘cause I did it.
Life don’t change, neither do the game,
Niggers getting money, but the rules stay the same.
Who I’m gonna sound with, who I wanna ground with?
That’s my only question, nigger, see ‘em G I’m down
with.
Cocaine mirrors, cold money guns, every nigger I fuck
with with the g I make them bun,
So I never leave the house without my chain on my gut,
Got on my old boy Gucci so I fresh pearl once.
See, nigger, see, I feel like I wanna release, nigger,
I got to face earth, you know what I mean?
And then I got nothing to do and get no money
And that, nigger, that be a hundred.
That be a hundred with yourself, that be a hundred with
the niggers,
A hundred with you, you know what I mean?
Man, I got a lot of young nigger around me, nigger,
And that’s straight of low life family, nigger, could
kill for each other,
That thing is real.
Murder was the case, nigger, jump a hoardal with a race
nigger, down
Then I put it in your face, to the face, on my case,
nigger,
Told my lawyer go to trial, I’m doing it big in the
meanwhile.
If I lose, place a riot for me, if I die don’t stay
fire for me,
Pour on some liquor and get higher for me,
I’m doing this thing for my home boys,
I have it, oh, lord, so surely can avoid.
I came here speaking from my heart for some time around
Am I a real rapper or just a nigger on lands?
I don’t know, I’m confused, do I suppose to be rich?
You know that hoe ain’t your hoe, she’s your supposed
to be bitch.
No supposed to be clip, I want no allias,
You see ‘em G, homie and we don’t franchise.
I get green gas off the whipe ass, don’t get in that
And he get bout time.
Hallelujah, bless my shooters, serve my jazle, watch
him hit that shooter.
Fuck that rap shit, I don’t fit in,
How they fuck boys, how they fake friends.
Streets on fire, plug on gold mode, streets so damn
dry, I might get a truck load.
Fuck your country, I won’t sign it, labels keep calling