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3:29 | 
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
[50 Cent]
Yeah! 50 Cent.. Lloyd Banks.. Young Buck... G G G G G-Unit! Haha! [Young Buc] Vacate your home I come to break your bones Americas nightmare we at it again A desert eagle and a black mack 10 And never know what happened When we come through them cowards dont want none They screamin’ that they murderer’s but walkin' with no guns Come here nigga don’t wanna die where your standin' See im holdin' on this cannon and your life I'm demandin' Put the pipe to your melon and your brains on the pavement These niggaz is talkin' thinkin security gunna save ‘em Nobody gon’ speak when homicide pay a visit Look you right in the eyes and tell ya "we don't know who did it" Corrupted by street corner by shootin' at the police The fiends up all night and the neighbors gettin' no sleep You betta get used to it you know how we do it Shady Aftermath Interscope and G-Unit. [Chorus] We got action where you don't Show up places where you won't G-Unit, [50 Cent] G-G-G-G, G-Unit [50 Cent] Now I told ya'll on my first Dre joint I am Loco Betta than so so the games in the choke hold Diss me is a nono I perfected the slow flow In D.C. they dance the gogo In L.A.they ride on lolo's G-Unit in the house, oh no You ain't ready it's heavy 65 chevy Old school rollin' im holdin' 20 inches spinnin' from the beginnin' we winnin' Gain's his masculinity pimpin' we not pretendin' Drop top glock cocked ready for the drama Pistol's pop cop shot i'm heavy with them llama's Non-stop make it hot we on top regardless You could be the hardest We'll just be the smartest I warn you not to start us We're not your average artist's My bitch is like a goddess When paparazzi spot us Cause flick after flick same ol' shit that I kick, haha! [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] Guess who's back mothafucker gun in the clip Ready to smack up on these suckas that's runnin' they lip You can try any one of my shoes on none of ‘em fit Your hundreds are shorter I'll tell your pops his son is a daughter All I need is some cigars and quarter a couple cars and a lawyer Condom packin' a bitch and I'll be back with a hit I'm that sick, Who the hell you thought it was I got expensive habits I can't afford it cuz G-Unit is poppin' and we performin' all the clubs Niggas be shovin' and pushin' as someone is gooshin' surpise She's givin' up the buns on her cushion Sweatin' and screamin' suckin' me off the rest of the evenin' And i'm leavin', on to the next city Stashbox in the bus so I can bring the techs with me I gotta go cause i'm gettin' older you niggas ain't gettin over G-U-NIT [Chorus] |
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4:01 |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
[Chorus] (50 Cent)
Every hood we go through All the gangstas around know my whole crew We hold it down like we supposed to Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin’ them thangs Every hood we go through All the gangstas around know my whole crew We hold it down like we supposed to Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin’ them thangs [Verse 1] (50 Cent) After the VMAs my baby momma cuss my ass out. I kicked her ass we back friends like Puffy and Steve Stout Cut the grass around my clique so I could see these sneaks You see back in the hood it’s cuz I see they fake I preach a sermon about the paper like I’m cut flow a dollar I’ll pop you punk niggaz like I pop my collar I’m confused, I like Megan, Monica, and Mya Missy’s freaky and Brandy’s shy, uh Now take a look at how my lifestyle changed up I’m on now, god damn it I done came up Now you could find me with the finest hoes Choosin’ which whip to drive by what match my clothes I got a fetish for the stones, heavy on the ice man If I ain’t gotta pistol on me, sure I gotta knife man Get outta line and I’m lightin’ your ass up Semi-automatic spray, I’ll tighten your ass up [Chorus] (50 Cent) Every hood we go through All the gangstas around know my whole crew We hold it down like we supposed to Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin’ them thangs Every hood we go through All the gangstas around know my whole crew We hold it down like we supposed to Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin’ them thangs [Verse 2] (Lloyd Banks) Slow down little nigga Don’t exceed your speed Cuz I will put g's on they fitted like the Negro league I got connects so I don’t need no weed I’ve been in LA for a year now So I don’t see no seeds After I’m done you clappin’ the crew Hell yeah, I fuck fans Guess what your favorite rapper does too In a minute I’ma have the Jew to makin’ my rims spin My crew run wild at the Jamaica’s at Kingston Nothin’ but bling bling in ya face boy That’s why my knicks shine like one of them shirts Puffy and Mase wore I done find a nympho as soon as I pop a bra She had my balls head first just like a soccer star You can only stand next to the man if you proper Ya'll take care of birds like a animal doctor Been out and I’m buzzin’ niggas just slept on me So I’m out for revenge like one of bin laden's cousins [Chorus] (50 Cent) Every hood we go through All the gangstas around know my whole crew We hold it down like we supposed to Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin’ them thangs Every hood we go through All the gangstas around know my whole crew We hold it down like we supposed to Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin’ them thangs [Verse 2] (Young Buck) Read the paper, look at the news We one the front page Yeah we in the Bahamas with AK's on the stage The ice and the Jacob watch make a broke nigga take somethin’ So I gotta keep the four fifth with no safety button G-Unit getting’ money I know some artists is starvin’ But play the game like they rich to me this shit funny I know you see me comin’ Cuz on the front of the Maybach It say payback for those who hated on me I hate when niggas claim they bangin’ a gang You ain't no crip like snoop You ain't no blood like gang See I’ve been having beef I have my own bullet proof vest Most of my enemies dead I got about two left Until my last breath I’m sendin’ niggas bullet holes Innocent bystanders get hit tryin’ to be heroes You know how we roll Every where that we go It’s fo’ fos’, calicos, and desert eagles [Chorus] (50 Cent) Every hood we go through All the gangstas around know my whole crew We hold it down like we supposed to Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin’ them thangs Every hood we go through All the gangstas around know my whole crew We hold it down like we supposed to Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin’ them t" |
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3:45 |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
[Chorus: 50 Cent]
My buddy, my buddy Wherever I go, he go My buddy, my buddy Can run for your life on the stick up out the window My buddy, my buddy I lay your ass out mothafucka is simple Stay in your place I recommend or say hello to my litte friend [Lloyd Banks] Everywhere I go I gotta tag along Cause my buzz gettin' strong And they mad I'm on They ride with me when I'm past the mall Don't wait for me on the bench when I'm playin' a game of basketball One sqeeze will make a bastard fall Gasp and crall You need a bulletproof vest mask and all Bring your buddy when it's time to roam (why?) Cause I got hit the last time I left mine at home My hand bling full of platinum the shine is chrome He even got closet space inside of my home He ain't never been broke he glitchless So reliable I bought him a rubber coat for Christmas Infared beam in the scope for distance The best company wouldn't proach in business He who ride with me to the end We all gotta friend And mine is a G-U-N. [Chorus: 50 Cent] My buddy gotta temper he dyin' to pop off Like Tommy did the cops had the block all locked off Take them with me to hustle stashed him in the trash can My finger tips sore for four hours I backround She meet him his destination hell or heaven Cause I only bring em out for that 187 He dont have a heart I just keep feeding him shells He get it poppin' in the hood so his name ring bell Ms. Jones stay on the third floor she call the cops on me They came I ran I had to toss my othrt little homie Niggas they all got new friends so they stay in there place kid I stay screamin' on niggaz and beatin' up base heads These niggaz sayin' doley just like they pretend Keep fuckin' around they gon say hello to my little friend. [Chorus: 50 Cent] [Young Buc] We been through it all yet we both still livin' We been in a box but we both still spittin' And when there was beef you even played your position Got under the seat until we spotted our victim At first they wouldn't listen to they heard you go off Remember it was broad daylight in the middle of New York And little did they know we was ready for war Bet that nigga wished he'd never stuck his head out the door See whenever you come out something happen on the block You the reason that nigga done stop rappin' like Pac People see you ain't run and you even say shit They just know you ain't nothin' to play wit Stay wit 16 homies and one in the hole When the first one get out the next one go To know where your headed you gotta know where you been The glock stay with me we friends till the end. [Chorus: 50 Cent] |
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2:25 |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
(50 Cent)
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah Little Tyrone tired of gettin' his ass whipped so he holdin' that gat down His momma think it's my fault cause he listen to "back down" Bobby was a fucking bum he pumpin' now He keeps her fresh chicks white T's and fitted hats now Uncle Rock-a-whiner we wont put the yack down Eric had a jump shop but he's smoking crack now The Lunatics the Lost Boys cheap shit is wack now Country boots shrowden crackers got him on his back now And Sean runnin' round with his gat now Up in niggaz cribs sayin' where that money at pound And Saundra from BK I seen her out in Houston That bitch travel the world she runnin' round boostin' And Toya got these bad ass kids they a nusince Their baby daddy's never come around they useless Everynow and then I come through on some new shit Pearly white six and some chrome deuce deuce. (Chorus: 50 Cent) I'm so hood, I can't help it I'm so hood, I can't help it Love me for being me Cause I can't change it - can't rearrange it - I am what I am. So love me for being me. I'm so hood, I can't help it I'm so hood, I can't help it Love me for being me Cause I can't change it - can't rearrange it - I am what I am. So love me for being me. (50 Cent) Now Im'a six man momma told me god don't like ugly I fell scraped my face and thought god must don't love me So Owen every morning before school he sell dope Niggaz keep whoopin' that ass cause he sell soap. Charlie be beggin' all the time he stay broke Flip be down on 109 rollin' up smoke Chamie he a thief catch a stunt in a stolen car He that nigga that you call when you crash and need new parts They say they love me because I rap now but they don't like me I've been locked up 3 times and they ain't write me Stevey a pump fucker with Shanqua get mean quick Pop shots at you he sure must suck a mean dick The blocks hot D's jump out on us almost all the time They watch us from the building but niggaz still be on the grime Wade used to call the cops and tell them G had a nine Til G put that gun in down that seat and said it wasn't mine (Chorus: 50 Cent) |
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3:52 |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
[Chorus]
[50 Cent] I'll teach you how to stunt My wrists stay rocked up My TV's pop up in a Maybach benz I'll teach you how to stunt Nigga you can't see me My bently GT got smoke-gray tints I'll teach you how to stunt My neck stay blinging, my rims stay gleaming, I'm shining man I'll teach you how to stunt I see you scheming, nigga keep on dreaming, I hurt ya mans I'll teach you how to stunt [50 Cent] Seven series BM, Six series benz Twenty-four inches, Giovanni rims All on one wheel when I'm on one of them Ma, that boy out there actin a fool that's him They say I've changed man, I'm getting paper, I'm flashy They like me better when I'm fucked up and ashy My royalty check's the rebirth of Liberace Stunt so hard, everybody got to watch me And I don't really care if it's platinum or white gold As long as the VS bling, look at that light show In the hood they say Fifty man your sneaker look white yo Just can't believe Reebok did a deal with a psycho Banks is a sure thing, yall niggaz might blow I'm fittin to drop that, so I suggest you lay low Buc, he from Cashville, Tenneckee nigga Getting them ten of keys, save ten for me nigga [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] I'm sensing a lot of tension now that I'm rappin But the kids used to look up to you, what happened? Me on the contrary, hand covered with platinum Different color coupes but I'm in love with the black one On point, cuz you get R.I.P.'s when slacking So the stashbox big enough to squeeze the mack in Yeah, I'm fairly new but I demand some respect Cuz I already wear your advance on my neck I'm fresh off the jet, then I breeze to the beaches Blue yankee fitted, G-Unit sneakers I already figured out what to do with all my features Decorate the basement, full of street sweepers When it comes to stuntin' theres nothing you can teach us We're in a different time zone, your records don't reach us Naww, I ain't here to save the world, just roll up a blunt Come with me out front, I'LL TEACH YOU HOW TO STUNT [Chorus] [Young Buc] Chain so icy, you don't have to like me In a throwback jersey, with the throwback nikes I know you probably seen me with Cash Money from back in the days The only thing changed is the numbers on the range I bought me an old school and blew out the brains The Roc the Mic tour, I threw off my chain My sprewell's spinning man, I'm doing my thing And whodi now in trouble now that you in the game Come on now, we all know gold is getting old The ice in my teeth keep the crystal cold G-Unit homie, actin' like yall don't know Look, I can't even walk through the mall no more I just pull up, get out, and get all the hoes They never seen doors lift up on a car before Don't be mad at me dog, that's all I know That's how to show these fougaisies how it's supposed to go [Chorus] |
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4:25 |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
[Chorus]
I wanna get to know you I really wanna fuck you, baby I'm lost in your lovin' I'm simply going to drive you , crazy I wanna be your lover I wanna get to know you, baby I'm lost in your lovin' I'm simply going to drive you , crazy [Young Buc] Im lovin' how you look in my eyes Swingin' them hips when you pass I'm visualizing my name tatooed on that ass baby Jump on this Harley Lets go smoke some of that Bob Marley Sip some Bacardi Then go pull up at the afterparty I think we make a perfect couple But you think I'm trouble Maybe thats the reason you gave me the wrong number She got me feeling like "maybe she the wrong woman" Think im'a be chasin' the chicken head you own somethin' Your toes painted half fixed all the time And your Gucci boots the same color as mine If you read between the lines you can see that I want you I betcha I have you doin' what you said that you won't do Making decisions shorty good things don't last long Your girlfriend keep showin' me that thong Before I head home Im'a stop at your house and blow the horn If you come outside you know it's on [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] Bitches be frustrated with the baller Wonder why I call her Maybe because I'm busy and she needs someone to spall her Hiccups annoy ya from time to time I gotta ignore her In order to let her know we'll be friends and nothing more She loves it when I'm in town Hate it when I'm not around I get her and wear down Next door neighboors hear the sound Pictures hittin' the ground Just enough to hold us down I'm stickin' n' moving cruising after the third round Just lay back baby and let me drive you crazy I can make a 40 year old feel like a young lady I admit I fell in love with her frame And to make her feel special I let her call me by my government name Her panties wet over fame Fall in love with my chain I wonder if I wasn't an entertainer would she remain Surrounding me hounding me trying to be my only I'm not your boyfriend I'm your homie. [Chorus] [50 Cent] (Yeah) What would fuck me up more Watching her lick her lips Or watching her walk she hypnotize me with her hips (yeah) man I sweet talk her if she like Cause all she really want is a nigga to treat her right right Look I'm legit now used to break laws Now you can reap the benefits of world tours Big house big Benz girl it yours Mink coats Italian shoes stones with no flaws You ain't go to look like a model for me to adore you All you gotta do is love me and be loyal Don't indulge in my past fuck what happened before you Cause their be some honies gonna hate you that never saw you Come here let my touch on you I let you touch on me Put my tounge on you you put your tounge on me Let me ride on you and you can ride on We can do it all the night We can have a balla night [Chorus] I wanna get to know you I really wanna fuck you, baby I'm lost in your lovin' I'm simply going to drive you , crazy I wanna be your lover I wanna get to know you, baby I'm lost in your lovin' I'm simply going to drive you , crazy I wanna be your lover I really need to stand you, baby I wannt be your lover I really need to stand you, baby, baby, baby, baby. |
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4:14 |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
(50 Cent)
Yeah, G-Unit, Haha. I've been so many places I've seen so many faces Girl you look like someone that I done fucked before I've been around the world I've met all kinds of girls Girl you look like someone I done fucked on tour (Uh huh) (Getting paper things change) I'm rich bitch (You done heard of my name) 50 Cent bitch (I'm a P.I.M.P.) I'm a pimp bitch (You done heard of me) Cause I'm the shit ???? At first they didn't want they want me See a nigga gettin' paid they want push 'n pull me You see these ho's chasin' a nigga I have them in the hotel chasin a nigga 50 like a lolipop lick me baby Then lick Dr. Dre and Shady Oh! (Chorus) Groupie love, Gimme gimme gimme that groupie love Gimme gimme gimme that groupie love When you see me in V.I.P. When ho's around me Man they give me that groupie love Come gimmie gimmie gimmie that groupie love Come gimmie gimmie gimmie that groupie love Tonight you wanna fuck wit me It's alright wit me Come on and give me that groupie love. (Tono Yayo) Sometimes I rhyme slow sometimes I rhyme quick Thats the reason these groupies is on my dick Listen young and old these ho's is loose Wintertime the staircase summertimes the roof Give me eight days in the eighth homie I'm straight Have a church girl on the bus moving weight I got birds backstage thats serious eye candy I've got birds in the hood so I'm into birds with bambi My writing methods got me more ho's than Tyson Meth The icy necklace on the tour butt ass naked When I say jump bitch say how high And flag down a car when the shit drive by I'm a pimp like pretty tone I got the info on pretty chrome Fuckin' ho's off fiddy's phone My name more weight you barley known You on that R Kelly shit your bitch is barley grown (Yeah!) (Chorus) (50 Cent) G-G-G-G-G-G-G-G-G G-UNIT! (Lloyd Banks) Shorty ain't feeling me Shorty must like girls (like girls) Cause I'm all the man in your world Bitch I can make you famous You don't know what your missing I can change your mind if you listen If the bitch don't like me the bitch must not like men I say what I want because I can If I didn't I'd be a liar Remind me I'm on fire Come ride with a rider I travel so you might catch the king with a singer But touching my door bell is the only way I put a ring on your finger Give me a car rolling two cups and I'm in bedroom Fucking up your seats like the Coo Clucks Clan I shook hands with my fans to fuck em' And I'm always tryin' to duck em' So I can climb into somethin' My name is B-A-N-K-S dollar sign bitch I'm a bentley to make that switch Come and give me that. (Chorus) (tony yayo) Groupie love, I love that shit Hoooooooooooooo Groupies come and groupies go And they always at a show So I always grab me the tightest one And proceed to the slraight to the mall She so much tighter that she's here with me That she feel's she should pay a fee I did not disagree so she dropped down to her knees Groupie love, yeah. Uh huh, groupie love, yeah. Uh huh, groupie love, yeah. |
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3:53 |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
[50 Cent]
I, know, you, know I'm, on, fiiiii-re [Chorus: 50 Cent] If, you don't know, who I be You betta ask somebooooody about me Oh - you wanna be tough nigga, a look is enough I put that snub nose to ya and bust nigga If, you don't know, who I be You betta ask somebooooody about me And they'll tell ya I'm a soldier boy And I done told ya, over and over boy [Verse One: Lloyd Banks] I come from a big city, the streets corrupt Now I'm rollin with snub-noses to heat you up Out here niggaz'll do anything to reach a buck Cause when you broke you can't afford to fuck ya sneakers up I take my time, keep my mind on my bank funds Learn how to seperate the real from the fake ones And on my heater nina rep what could I carry on My nigga just lost his momma, and his daddy gone From now on I can provide cause my paper's straight Family losin his legs, but I can take the weight Some niggaz hate but I'll be damned if they hold me down Front niggaz didn't know me then, bet they know me now Blunt and a smile, eventually it'll be a frown Cause every time I turn around a nigga locked down While I'm in the world, tryin to bring my loot through Hopin one day we can kick it like we used to, my nigga [Chorus] [Verse Two: Young Buck] Uhh, they never seen 26's on Hummer My goal is to try to fuck Trina by the summer Some niggaz hate me, but they only made me Go and put mo' ice in my mouth than Baby (bling bling!) G-Unit and Shady, them dudes is crazy Next time, we only usin Dr. Dre's beats Fuck you, pay me, take your magazine flicks This ain't no Nelly hurr, take a good look at this Got the wrists of a chemist and the heart of a hustler Plus I probably done robbed mo' artists than Russell Always in trouble, you can blame my mother Gave birth to a gorilla and raised him in the jungle I ain't crawled, I stumbled across the Mexican with birds Papi had coke and new plates and pounds of herb Keep my hand on my glock, and my ear to the streets I'm a country boi, you can hear it when I speak G-Unit! [Chorus] [Verse Three: 50 Cent] Bentley is all dreams, G-5 is understood I made a nigga heart colder than December (yeah!) Don't take much to make my gun go off One shot'll make a hardrock look oh so soft (woo!) If you don't know you betta ask who I be Or end up in ICU gettin fed through a IV Down in the Lou', they say they feelin me derrty In New Orleans they say I'm that nigga, ya heard me? From them Southside blocks to Watts, Westside don't front You know about them Grapestreet Gangstas, G'd up Rollin that weed up Nigga get outta line, get shot stabbed jacked Hit with a bat or beat up Fuck that, we're on that same bullshit Same forty-cally glock, same full clip Pussy claat bwoy, ya nah wanna tak wif me I'm a real rudebwoy, ya nah wanna ruf wif me [Chorus] |
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4:21 |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
"Walk with meeeee..."
(Young Buck) Ay if you hear me out there "Walk with meeeee..." (Young Buck) I get down on my knees every night and say "Walk with meeeee..." (Young Buck) Hahahaha, yeah "Walk with meeeee..." (Young Buck) I'm goin to war, I'm goin to WAR! (Verse One: Young Buck) You never know when death's comin, all you hear is gunshots Lil' kids get to runnin, old ladies get off the block When the poppin the truck music comes to a stop Niggaz get on the floor with they front doors locked Syringes and sirens the only thing on the street People act like they don't know who did it, but they notice me Every day's a death threat, but I ain't dead yet So I go put a hole in a nigga from the next set Don't know where I slept at, just know where my tec at It's the first of the month, my bitch ain't got her check yet Juvie left me in California, I don't respect that I love him too much to beef, so I'ma accept that But I'ma just step back, and focus on Buck Tired of ridin in yours, I'm bout to buy my own truck Got to try my own luck, "Get Rich or Die Tryin'" It's G-Unit 'til I'm gone, Lord knows I ain't lyin niggaz (Chorus: 50 Cent - repeat 2X) First there was two sets of footprints in the sand Then there was one set of footprints in the sand When times get hard and shit hits the fan God don't walk with me, he carry me man (Verse Two: Young Buck) You don't know what I been through to get what I done got If you looked through a scope, you couldn't hit what I done shot Couldn't flip what I done copped, couldn't tip what I done topped I murder you all-talk like a clip without a glock When you holla G-Unit on some other shit You need to do the research, and see who you fuckin wit I smoke all your weed up, go run up your Beeza Your baby momma want me, I don't want that skeeza She's scratched my Beema, but I ain't seen-her When I catch the bitch, I'ma gangsta lean-her - WHOA We be playin in them videos, with them pretty hoes Cash bucks and the key bitches and New York City hoes They learned it from Lil' Kim to let they titties show I'm the King of the South, this is how it really goes Lord knows, I keep all my jewels froze As long as the check come, then FUCK the award shows You know me nigga (Chorus) (Verse Three: Young Buck) Half of these kids never read the Bibles But they can tell you how to kill a man better than I do The reason they fucked up, they all been lied to I know what it feels like when a nigga misguide you My momma stay in the projects and I been havin money I went bought her a house, but she told me she ain't want it (What?) Right then I understood that the hood's in my blood So I hollered CASH REAL, lettin 'em know where I'm from Niggaz know I got a gun when I come to the club And if it go down, you better tell your people to duck Why should I slow down, I just got started targettin artists Wait 'til the bullets start hoppin out the cartridge I come to get it poppin, pray to God the news watchin So when they see 'em snitch niggaz'll know who got 'em We came from the bottom to the top, from hoopties to a drop And kill or be killed is the attitude I got nigga (Chorus) (Young Buck) I know you prayin I get killed nigga He who fears death is in denial 50 told you niggaz, Young Buck showed you niggaz Banks! FREE YAYO! And tell the bitch ass niggaz put they vest on I'M HERE NOW! |
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3:55 |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
(Chorus)
Nigga you shit on me , I shit on you You put a hit on me, I put a hit on you A eye for an eye nigga Survive the shots or die nigga (get 'em Banks) (Lloyd Banks) You can't hold me i'm Lloyd Banks the one and only not your buddy, not your pal, not your homie there ain't a government around that can control me, ohhh no I'm on that doggy style shit, man i don't love a hoe papa wasn't around so i had to let my brother know, never stay in center, play the back and let your money grow, most them niggas wouldn't be around if you was bummy yo, south side jamaica neighbour yeah thats where i come from, if you see a nigga with me then it's more than one gun, five straight soldier ain't that tired of being the dumb one, or even satisfied being another niggas dun-dun, we all know friendships turn sour when you gettin it, some niggas hate me in the hood but i don't owe them niggas shit, smiling all up in my face like i don't know them niggas sick, but i can care less, i'm on the album and i'm gettin' rich. (Chorus) Nigga you shit on me , I shit on you You put a hit on me, I put a hit on you A eye for an eye nigga Survive the shots or die nigga (Young Buck) Walkin' and talkin' spit it how i live it nigga, Came from the country, dirty south get it nigga, Feds tryin to question me, they run up in my hotel, they said there was a shootin', but they found no shells, New york city, hell they throwin' niggas under jails, I got love for them and i ain't even from there, Now bust a shot for them boys on the block, I can feel your pain nigga, I'm still in the game nigga, There somethin' bout the sound of a trey-pound, That make me pull up, hop out and make a nigga lay down, See every time we round' ya hear some shots go off, And niggas get there chains snatched when they try and show off, Shoot outs in broad day we do it the mob way, And come to find out this niggas softer than shawty, I'mma keep livin my life with a pistol in my palm and a wrist full of ice, you can call me the don. We want tha eye 'n' son make one wrong move and your dyyyyin', ain't no time for coppin' heat nigga ya cryyyying, cause my niggas ain't goin'stop riiidin', so you gone (chorus) Nigga you shit on me , I shit on you You put a hit on me, Iput a hit on you A eye for an eye nigga Survive the shots or die nigga (50) I got a hand gun habit, nigga front i'll let ya have it, When the shots go off cops sayin 50 back at it, I'm alergic to the feathers on these bird ass niggas, Front and i'll put ya brains on that curb fast nigga, I ain't a marksman my spark and i'll spray shit, Enough rounds for the Hk i don't play bitch, Move like i'm militant back on that gorilla shit, Moody, disrespectful, i'm ruley but niggas can't move me, I squeeze till i run outta ammo, if it's a problem it's handled, I'll have your people pourin' out liquor and lightin' candles, You fuck around i'll blow your brains on my new york times, Run home, turn to the sports section and read your mind, It's crystal clear you should feel when that gat bust, First it's crime scene tape then you end up in that black herse, We don't go to funerals but we'll go to your wake fam, View your body all banged up, you made a mistake man. (Chorus X2) Nigga you shit on me , I shit on you You put a hit on me, I put a hit on you A eye for an eye nigga Survive the shots or die nigga |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
[50 Cent]
Yeah, this somethin special y'know, somethin epic Lloyd Banks, you know Cause a nigga thuggin don't mean he don't ..Wanna see you smile baby ... Wooo! I wanna be the reason you smile I wanna be the reason you smi-ile I wanna be the reason you smile After you wipe away your tears and dry your eyes [Lloyd Banks] I'm gettin the feelin you wanna take revenge From the conversations we have and the way it ends You wanna discuss me in front of your lady friends That's why it's just me and my Mercedes Benz It all depends, maybe if we make amends We can start from scratch Learn to control your temper and remarks in fact We plan to be platonic but the hearts in tact So everytime we seperate, somebody's marchin back You're amazing in the sack Eyes slanted like you're Asian, but you're black God Bless whoever gave you all of that If you seen her from the back You'd understand why dis feel like that And ain't a flaw to her toes, the Lord knows Her pussy good enough to miss award shows And I ain't gotta say nothin, she just knows By the way I look at her to take off all her clothes Up and down [Chorus: Lloyd Banks + (50 Cent)] Whenever I'm not around , and you feelin down Let the thought of me be (be the reason you smile) I don't wanna see you frown, like them kids watch a clown I wanna bring you joy and be (be the reason you smile) Baby, you know my style, you know how I get down I provide by any means to be (be the reason you smile) We done been through ups and downs, had drama for a while I'm just happy I'm around to be (the reason you smile) [Lloyd Banks] The main reason I been lookin at you pitiful What about the half of this shit I done did to you Violated and tip toed into a crib or two I've come clean to be a bigger individual Even though you're busy boo, the evening's when I visit you Kinda makes me feel lucky, cause I see niggaz when you tease 'em with your physical She wanna rack up her brooms, I ain't got no more room left Wild drama, section 8 princess My foreign chick bad, but she been stressed Cause it's hard to communicate Cause she don't speak no ingles I been around the world from state to state But now I'm back bustin in your bathroom Got you laughin in your shower cap, let's get it on Cause I'm leavin in a hour flat, really dont matter, shes mad Even when I holla back All I really need your attention for a while And, I bet you I can make you smile [Chorus - 2X] |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
(50 Cent)
Ahhhhhh! G-Unit! (Intro/Chorus - 50 Cent) Baby you got, you got, you got, you got what I want Baby you got, you got, you got, you got what I need Now shake that thang Shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it up Girl shake that thang Shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it up (Chorus - 50 Cent) Baby you got Hips that hypnotize When you walk I can't help but watch you shake I love the way you shake (Baby you got) Hips that make a nigga fantasize I could spend a day lost in your eyes (Baby you got) Some kinda control on me Feels like you got a hold on me (Baby you got) My imagination running wild Infatuated with your physical, damn, I like your style (Verse 1 - 50 Cent) It's something about your style, it's something about your smile It's something about you making me want you right now If you don't like me, then don't listen to me Lord knows I spit that G that have you coming out your clothes I'm a professional when I become sexual You need a chaperone to bring your girlfriend next to you Don't it sound like phone sex, kinky, when I talk switch the slang Partner, tell that nigga from New York, shorty Come ride on my roller coaster Porn star stamina, I try not to damage ya Unlimited tongue action 'til you're climaxin' Foreplay, you can have it your way I follow directions, whoa, your jiggling baby Back shots have your whole back wiggling crazy After sipping on Nightrain, that potent pipe game I have you saying "slow down baby" (Chorus) (Verse 2 - Young Buck) Baby it's hard to look and don't touch Girl the way you strut dressed in your Von Dutch I don't know if it's your lips or your hips that got me Or the way that ass bounce when you move your body I'm parked outside in the blue Denali There's room for two, just me and you, if you 'bout it Ice from Tiffany & Co., Norma Kamali footwear I spend g's, I'm a G, that's a good look girl You need a thug that can handle that One dose'll make you go and put my name on your back Whenever you pass through, whatever they ask you Just tell em you my boo, and show em your tattoo, ooohh Don't hurt nobody baby When you drop to the ground and drive me crazy I done been around the world, and I finally found ya Now back that ass up and let me get behind ya (ahhh!) (Chorus) (Verse 3 - Lloyd Banks) Baby you've got a hell of a first impression Making me wanna ask you a personal question Like "Are you flexible?" and "How do you like it?" Give me a little input, I'm not a psychic Cuz you can exit as soon as you get the ok You got a body like Nicole ray, hey I need a drink, I'll be right back But before I go, do that little dance, yeah, just like that It's late, I have to score, "This blue drink tastes good, don't it?" "Sure it does, now have some more" I'm deep, but she got her ladies wit her So bring em, I'll call ya a babysitter So we can hit the hotel, motel, Holiday Inn I'm contemplatin' how my time's spent Cuz I'm bent, and I'm as hard as a brick, love You move like you work in a strip club (Chorus) |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
General, I salute you
I'll put a hole in any nigga tryna shoot you It ain't nothing 'cause loyalty is what I'm used to And what I won't do, I'll have one of my troops do Nigga we'll kill you I'm ready for combat, a solider on the frontline Take me to the streets, nigga mothafuck a punchline It only take one time, for you to send a death threat And watch these bullets have that ass singing like Keith Sweat You ain't met me yet I been camoflauged in the bushes And I'm co-signing Fifty, 'cause them niggas all pussies Bustin' shots at ya convoy You don't want war No surrender, no retreat this is Vietnam boy Check my war wounds, I done took a couple for the team Only niggas that been on the battlefield know what I mean Take cover we coming, pulling pins outta grenades You won't make it to the general, without getting sprayed Might as well say "Hello" to my brand new little friend Only time he come out, to put holes in grown men You continue troops and get 'em all blowed back Walk up on 'em with a deuce-deuce and nigga all that, what! General, I salute you I'll put a hole in any nigga tryna shoot you It ain't nothing 'cause loyalty is what I'm used to And what I won't do, I'll have one of my troops do Nigga we'll kill you General, I salute you I'll put a hole in any nigga tryna shoot you It ain't nothing 'cause loyalty is what I'm used to And what I won't do, I'll have one of my troops do Nigga we'll kill you Look nigga, I suggest you go home 'Cause I won't hesitate to let the chrome touch ya Nigga I'm never scared like Bone Crusher Stand alone, provide my own supper Tell ya baby mama stop coming around here or I'm gon' fuck her Don't tryta pick up for them lames around you You get shots for free, like I fragant fouled you I'm on the road blowing grade A haze and brown Got niggas running like the KKK's around My album's coming, a new year's approaching My buzz getting bigger, my few ears is open Can ya team play in the game without you their to coach 'em There's a very fine line between a pool and the ocean Sometimes I'm in Atlanta where they make head bounce And you can come, but after you give Banks head, bounce These niggas really want war, 'cause if so Get on your vest, 'cause all you gotta do is say that General, I salute you I'll put a hole in any nigga tryna shoot you It ain't nothing 'cause loyalty is what I'm used to And what I won't do, I'll have one of my troops do Nigga we'll kill you General, I salute you I'll put a hole in any nigga tryna shoot you It ain't nothing 'cause loyalty is what I'm used to And what I won't do, I'll have one of my troops do Nigga we'll kill you |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
G G G, G G G-Unit
No peace talks, no white flags No mercy, I'm gettin yo ass [50 Cent] Niggas done heard about my click how we stay wit the toastas Blood in, blood out, la kostra nostra You don't wanna bang wit the best I'll have Doc removin fragments from your chest They say God's a forgivin' man, I hope he forgive Thirty shells I let off don't curse my kid They say Fifty done blew up, Fifty you changed Nigga you stunt, I pull out And you see I'm that same nigga that when he start to roar I think he's flyin Eight outta eight on movin targets You run? You still dyin Check my resume, I am oh so loco Mama ain't raise no chump, I don't talk no pocco [Chorus - 50 cent] Sticks and stones may break bones and the shells may hurt me But I take it like a man, you beg for mercy Keep your eyes wide open, nigga's lookin for it too Shit is real 'round here, you surrounded by crooks Sticks and stones may break bones and the shells may hurt me But I take it like a man, you beg for mercy Keep your eyes wide open, nigga's lookin for it too Shit is real 'round here, you surrounded by crooks [young buck] There once was some niggas that tried to murda me I hit em up, put em in plastic surgery This 4-5 has made a lot of guys apologize The truth come out, 'stead of hearin' a lot of lies Some niggas catch a case and then claim they hard A couple chest wounds0will make a nigga change his heart I just play my part, and while you shootin up cars I'm smokin' niggas like a Cuban cigar Let's get it poppin' [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] I'm tired of you niggas with your maybe beef We gonna be here forever, you're temporary like baby teeth I'm in and out the night clubs, A-D-D Dark blue Benz, navy seats, eighty sneaks These niggas tellin' out the blue So you hang em off the bridge At least they'll have to helicopter you The Jimmy lived in the bags, the Bell or Hop will do I rap for the neighborhood niggas that failed in high school You can tell I came a long way in my sense, home grown That's why them little niggas in the projects love me You provide the beat downs for free, I paid my dues I don't even freestyle for free I gave em a break, flew over seas But it's kinda hard to get homie-sick when there's blue in the trees Sit back and try to play your role wit the copies I put more staples in yo ass than a telephone pole, Yea [Chorus] |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
(hook-50 cent)
(aahh, yeah, uh huh) aint it amazing how crazy the hood dun made me feels like my emotions are froze (I stay g'd up) its the thangs i dun seen and the shit i been through that make my heart turn cold (i stay g'd up) im a gangsta you'll find out fa sho if u eva step on my toes (i stay g'd up) when im hangin out that window with that ak fillin yo punk ass wit holes (i stay g'd up) (1st verse, 50 cent) cocaine, heroine,ecstacy,marijuana im new on the grey hound from NY ta the carolinas paper chase different names same face dont catch a case my roll dawgs on paroll baby girls four years old we play the block pistol cocked you either shoot or get shot can you feel yo crack spot take everything yo ass got simi-automatic spay bust back or run away niggas talkin in the hood we'll handle 'em some other day in November we make my shit that u did you can catch on christmas ill send you a gift niggas ill come and leave yo ass twisted them hollow tip shells burn baby burn I seen niggas get murked they babies born then the world turns i seen it all crystal clear so i keep my pistol near hearts never full of fear homie i stay well aware on whats goin on around me mutha fuckas want me dead i go with a smile on my face when its my time kid (hook 1x) (2nd verse, lloyd banks) Lord nigga i dun paid the way yall should thank 'em but if you think otherwise bring ya boy over here so i could spank him ill put an end to yo career bitch before you speak on 50 buy 40 and a spare clip these niggas gassed up gettin too used to rap like i wont give em more blood clots than supercat niggas'll snatch ya im like a back catcha nigga ill give ya a sign and then throw sumthin atcha 'round here niggas die off hydro and even when it aint 4th of july i sound like pyro we smart enough to creep and lay ya dumb brains down a pound will spin you around like the young james brown (yea) i know im hot but hey (hey) im icy too rocks will hit you from a block away like a beat from dr. dre we're takin over this year the kings and the soldiaz is here everyone knows that ya scared (YEA) (hook 1x) Young Buck My poppa never bothered to show me what is was to be a man he'd just pop another bottle and smoke up a half a gram i would hop in my impala and ride all through the night they gave my home boy life so when you do it do it right my fingernails still filled with cocaine residue I still got the heart to go and bust me a head or two no other solution you think we're hollin and hootin until you wake up, and then you got to hear bout the shootins I take a pull from a loose one and put the clip in my pocket before i take another bullet im gon pull it and pop it and if theres beaf my nigga then letcha guns do ya talkin the graveyard, has got plenty of room for a coffin they say that we responsible for boostin the crime rate they say that we the reason why these young niggas buyin weight but im gon keep this glock on my waist till my dyin day its nothin but a G thang, g-unit and dr. dre (hook 1x) |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
[CHORUS]
I don’t know what you been thinking Don’t know what you been drinking But you get out of line boy I’ll lay your ass down [50 CENT] I been up in LA with Dre and Snoop for so long I’m finna crip walk and put some mother fuckin khakis on Nah thats iight man I ain’t got nuttin to prove I’m rich but I still live like I got nuttin to lose Look man I don’t know what you been drinkin’ I don’t know what you been thinkin’ But you get out line and swoop hit you upside the head Media they right whatever they choose The cops stay on my ass so I stay on the news These other rap niggas couldn’t walk in my shoes Went through a bunch of bullshit while I was payin my dues They say my music make a gangster want to pop something Well tell them niggas they could pop this and stop frontin’ You heard a nigga do you know how I get down Stay with my vest on and roll with a couple of tre pounds In case you mother fuckers want to jump bad now Start some bullshit and imma lay punk ass down [YOUNG BUCK] Hating niggas from long range for writing the wrong thangs My name Young Buck but I look like an old man Just cause I like ice don’t compare me to Lil Wayne I make rap niggas disappear like lil thangs See Buck been shot but not more than 50 I don’t dance but I look like signing with Diddy I got plans, grenades, and the G-Unit with me No commands we spray, give a fuck who we hittin Bustin my hand I pay em about 160 Hollow tips, four fifth with the rupper grips Crips and Bloods they show me love like I’m claiming the set These industry niggas know they better pay me my check I get a kick outta seeing these broke ass rappers Ten people showed up that’s why your show got cancelled 50 whatever they did to kid is handled Niggas callin 4 these features but they get no answer Fuck yall niggaz! [LLOYD BANKS] Bitches know it’s a privilege If I stop to check her Niggas all I got is hot shit the kids call me Dr Pepper And I don’t mean the soda The sixteen top shot loada I’ll bend ya ass up like yoga You fuckin with a soulja Selling tickets for a first class trip to a hospital folda So please keep talking so we could spread your feet Have you on your boulevard C walking The birds keep hawking Why? Cause im hurtin every CD I’m walking from DC to Boston I laugh at a snotty chick bitch I don’t argue I’ll leave a print on your ass Imma karate kid The niggas that I be with got guns On the big body tip and if they pull out You guarding and shit You got me in a heavy gray picture Plus I light up trees like everyday is Christmas |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
(50 Cent - Talking)
Yeah, niggas talking all that gangsta shit Acting like my money ain't no good in the hood, you know what I mean? Fucking head blown off nigga, you know? (Chorus 50 Cent x2) They, they talking that That gangsta shit They ain't about that Man, matter of fact Hand me my strap Show me where they at I'll stop 'em from talking like that (50 Cent) I'm the talk to hit every barbershop and beauty salon Cause these other niggas that rap ain't on the shit that I'm on Cause 50 this, 50 that, 50 stay with a gat Thirty-two shots in the clip, hollow tips in the Mack But when I come through, shh... the talking stop My money long now, I can make the Pope get shot Now, we can blow an hour talking bout the stones I rock All the hoes I got, cause he stunts in the drop Now, naw, you love the kids, 50 on that killa shit That been mobbed the bad man, bitchy as guerilla shit I'm marking my music like diesel on the block So if you with me you gon' eat and you gon' starve if you not Weed smokers love me like they love Buddha I'll send your kids through the shooter, Crip niggas love me like they love Hoova They tell me see careful good, cause niggas wanna see like you They ain't used to a G like you, BLAM! (Chorus 50 Cent) They, they talking that That gangsta shit They ain't about that Man, matter of fact Hand me my strap Show me where they at I'll stop 'em from talking like that (Young Buck) You think you a killer but we gon just pay 'em a visit Put the potato in the barrel so nobody hear it I keep a holster on my shoulder like I'm John Wayne Shooting these niggas lights out like Lebron James Holla my name, gimme a reason to see you bleeding After you feel these hollow tips, nigga, then we eating Full of anger until there's no more bullets in the chamber Ain't nothing like when you get popped and don't know who to blame-a Nigga told me, "Do your dirt all by your lonely" So I go hit them niggas 'fore 50 couldn't even hold me I'm waiting, anticipating to put a nigga under Smoking like we some Jamaicans fucking with this ganja Ride with no hesitation, retaliation is a must Bad as I want to, some shit I just don't discuss So point him out and watch how I knock him off Everywhere you bitches go, I got a nigga watching ya'll, motherfuckers! (Chorus 50 Cent) They, they talking that That gangsta shit They ain't about that Man, matter of fact Hand me my strap Show me where they at I'll stop 'em from talking like that (Lloyd Banks) Come on, nigga, I ain't here to make no friends, just cut the checks I got a long pump that'll put your stupid ass up in steps Begging niggas don't understand though Probably cause my hand glow when I'm anticipating the lambo Lean out my bucket for niggas thinking they Rambo You get one warning so I suggest you let your man know These rap niggas portray to be tough, nobody acting soft 'Til they laid out in the hospital, eating applesauce Usually for yapping off and turn apologetic Waving a white flag, the danger they might have My niggas buying so much ammo If you reach in the couch for loose change, you'll probably feel on the handle Holding sixteens to get your bandages and broke bones So I suggest you get alarm systems in both homes There's only one team on top, we number one with a glock Fuck around and get your dumb ass SHOT! (Chorus 50 Cent) They, they talking that That gangsta shit They ain't about that Man, matter of fact Hand me my strap Show me where they at I'll stop 'em from talking like that |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
(Intro)
*Sniff Sniff* You smell that? What's that? I smell pussy! (Is that you Irv?) I smell pussy! (Is that you Ja?) I smell pussy! (Is that you Black?) I smell pussy! (Is that you Tah?) (Verse One) Y'all niggas is pussy!!!!! I'm falling out nigga now watch me (watch me) Ain't nothing you can do to stop me (stop me) Y'all niggas get so emotional (emotional) You remind me of my bitch...HaHa It's not of my nature to make a commitment so let me breathe What she doesn't understand catch attitudes when I leave her Quite of probation just make it harder for me to accept her as my own She tries to tie up my phone and I'm not at home she's thinking I'm not alone Probably out tryin' to bone anything in the street I let her know she can leave I ain't tryin' to tie her up But see it's hard to fuck wit somebody after she touches me Mami I'm not your regular nigga I know the game But I don't play by the rules I'm focusing on my moves That way I will never lose See I can tell by your shoes if you attracted to Benz's with 22's You say I confuse you play little trick with your head Been catching feelings ever since the first time I slept in your bed I'm not here to tease you mislead you with so your dreams I can't say I love you I don't know what that means I'M A PIMP!!!! (Chorus (twice)) Girl you know I like when you climb on top Love muscle feel tighter than a headlock And you know I love the way you make the bed rock Take me to Ecstasy with out takin Ecstasy Girl you know I like when you climb on top Love muscle feel tighter than a headlock And you know I love the way you make the bed rock Take me to Ecstasy with out takin Ecstasy (Verse Two) When I first met her, I did anything to get her Paid all her bills and filled her frigerator Reminiscing on late nights when I tried to lay up But couldn't get off 'cause your baby would stay up She even crashed the whip tryin' to switch in the third lane That's when I realized this bitch was a bird brain A pigeon writing her baby pops in the box in prison Sing-Sing is where he been in She in the Gucci tights and Fendi high heels Baby wipes and cans of Enfamil Motor Bikes and grams of fish scale So 9 to 5 niggas was no frill Turning young niggas with principals to old men with debts And all the prank calls was death threats That bitch got the best sex all across the globe And the bitch head game was out of control (Chorus (twice)) (Verse Three) I wonder when I'm gone if you miss me Or do you miss that Don Perignon and that Christy I'm fuckin wit you I'm feeling your shape I'm feeling your eyes later on I'm feeling your ass and feeling your thighs Sweetheart you book smart and street-smart I knew you was my type from the very, very start I'm in to tongue kissing 4 play all day Mamma ain't home so the noise is okay ODB you know he like it the raw way Latex, safe sex ,no hickeys on the neck Now your learning The lords blesses make me wiser as the worlds turning My tongue touch the right spot I'll have your toes curling Whether we just kicking it or we sexing I'm a pro baby girl I spit game to perfection So when niggas make mistakes I correct 'em and When niggas get out of line I check the man (Chorus) (50 Cent talking) Yeah........ don't think I forgot about your fat ass though Irv You wanna run around takin pictures like you Puff Daddy and the Family motherfucker With that bitch Charli Baltimore... Bitch look like she died last week pale as fuck Paint her hair red... Think she gon' sell records tryin' to impersonate Pink and shit! Bitch... punk-ass motherfuckers All you motherfuckers get rolled on nigga Ain't no motherfucking, "leave her alone 'cause she a bitch" FUCK that nigga!! Fuck all of it!! But not you Ashanti baby You know how I feel about you baby Come on... come here girl... c'mon gimme some love girl Fuck Irv Gotti... you know how me and you do baby You know... they say I'm sexy now... HaHaHa Aye Irv your momma got a thing for me!!!! |
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from G-Unit - G Unit - Stunt 101 [single] (2003)
Yea, uh huh, Stunt 101, yeah
(Chorus)(50 Cent) I teach you how to stunt My wrist stay rocked My T.V's pop up in the maybach Beennnnz I teach you how to stunt You can see my Bentley G.T. got so great endz I teach you how to stunt My neck stay blingin, my whip stay gleamin, im shinin mannn I teach you how to stunt I see you schemin, nigga keep on dreamin, Ill hurt you mannn (Verse 1)(50 Cent) 7 Series BM, 6 Series Benz 24 inches, Giovanni rimz All one, one wheel, when I want one of them Ma, that boy I been actin a fool, thats him They say I changed man, I'm gettin paper, Im flashy They like me better when Im fucked up and ashy My royalty checks the rebirth to Liberace Stunt so hard, everybody gotta watch me And I dont really care, if it's platinum or white gold Long as it's VS, BLING!, look at that light show In the hood they say 50 man, your sneaker look right yo Just cant believe Reebok did a deal with a psycho Banks is a sure thing, yall niggaz might blow Im finna drop that, so i suggest you lay low Buck, he from Cash, still tend a ki nigga He gettin em ten a piece, save ten fo me nigga (Chorus) (Verse 2)(Lloyd Banks) I've been sensin a lot of tension now that I'm rappin, but the kids used to look up to you, what happened? Me on the contrary, hand covered with Platinum Different colour Coupes but I'm in love with the black one. On point, cause you get R.I.P.s when slackin so the stash box big enough to squeeze the mac, and yeah I'm fairly new but I demand some respect cause i already wear your advance on my neck I'm fresh of the jet then i breeze to the beaches Blue yankee fitted, G-Unit Sneakers Already figured out what to do with all my features decorate the basement, full of street sweepers. When it comes to stuntin' there ain't nothin' you can teach us, We're in a different time zone, your records don't reach us, naw I ain't here to save the world, just roll up a blunt come with me out front, I'll teach you how to stunt! (Chorus) (Verse 3)(Young Buck) The kid's so icy, you dont have to like me In a throwback jersey, with the throwback Nike's I know you probably seen me with Cash Money from back in the days The only thing changed, is the numbers on the Range I bought me an Old School, and blew out the brains The Roc the Mic tour, I threw off my chain My Spreewell's spinnin man, Im doin my thing And whoadie now in trouble now, its you in the game Come on now, we all know gold is gettin old The ice in my teeth keep the Cristal cold G-Unit homie, actin like ya'll dont know Look - I cant even walk through the mall no more I just pull up, get out, and get all the hoes They never seen doors let up on a car before Dont be mad at me dawg, it's all I know Is how to show these fougaisies how its sposed to go (Chorus) |
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from G-Unit - G Unit - Stunt 101 [single] (2003)
Woo wooo
Haha G unit! We got those semi automatics And we got them revolvers We those niggaz that you should get at If you got a problem When those hollow tips hit 'em Man that should solve 'em We got the lugers with rugers and m1s and they all for sale Got that 9mm got that 10mm Got that little duece duece and they all for sale Got that old trey pound Got that new fore pound Nigga use once or twice and they all for sale [Verse One] I'm the reason those things in my hood go BANG I got that trey duece I call that, my nigga behave 16 gage in case these niggaz wanna get crazy When a sawed off Hit your body parts they fall off You get hit in the leg Man you can't even crawl off When that AK switch that automatic to spray Everybody out this bitch could get hit with a stray I got silences and scoops Military issue pistols holla at me Whatever you need homie I can get you Nickname rubber grips hollow tips extra clips You dont want your shit to jam Better buy a cleaning kit Teflon, kevlar, need to wrap it round your chest You pop off they pop back and you get left a bloody mess Mac 11 mac 10 time for some action Dump a clip out this bitch and see how niggaz act then Got guns and ammo they all for sale Clips included you're responsible for your bail We got those semi automatics And we got those revolvers We that niggaz that you should get at If you got a problem When those hollow tips hit 'em Man that should solve 'em We got the lugers with rugers and m1s and they all for sale Got that 9mm got that 10mm Got that little duece duece and they all for sale Got that old trey pound Got that new fore pound Nigga use once or twice and they all for sale G stand for GANGSTER UNIT stand for U Niggaz in trouble Better lock and load on the double G Unit!! [Verse Two] Fresh out the box 40 cali glock, calico 20 shot Streetsweepers clear the block Im that n*gga n*ggaz call when those shots pop Take 'em to my grandmoms basement Show 'em what I got, look I got three 380s a tech and two m1's Ice came through on some shit and bought him one Them young boys from the projects crazy He was kissing on the toast and saying thats my baby Buck came through saying "50 show me some love" Sold him a dub dub something he can sneak in the club Gave him some shells for that trey 8 snub He gave me some bud I gave him a pound, gave me a hug Love, its love I take it back to the NWA days Fuck Jay my CD's raise the crime rate in the Troy state Got some rugers, some sigs, some colts My nigga for real. Holla at the kid for real We got those semi automatics And we got those revolvers We that niggaz that you should get at If you got a problem When those hollow tips hit 'em Man that should solve 'em We got the lugers with rugers and m1s and they all for sale Got that 9mm got that 10mm Got that little duece duece and they all for sale Got that old trey pound Got that new fore pound Nigga use once or twice and they all for sale |
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from G-Unit - G Unit - Stunt 101 [single] (2003)
Yea, uh huh, Stunt 101, yeah
(Chorus)(50 Cent) I teach you how to stunt My wrist stay rocked My T.V's pop up in the maybach Beennnnz I teach you how to stunt You can see my Bentley G.T. got so great endz I teach you how to stunt My neck stay blingin, my whip stay gleamin, im shinin mannn I teach you how to stunt I see you schemin, nigga keep on dreamin, Ill hurt you mannn (Verse 1)(50 Cent) 7 Series BM, 6 Series Benz 24 inches, Giovanni rimz All one, one wheel, when I want one of them Ma, that boy I been actin a fool, thats him They say I changed man, I'm gettin paper, Im flashy They like me better when Im fucked up and ashy My royalty checks the rebirth to Liberace Stunt so hard, everybody gotta watch me And I dont really care, if it's platinum or white gold Long as it's VS, BLING!, look at that light show In the hood they say 50 man, your sneaker look right yo Just cant believe Reebok did a deal with a psycho Banks is a sure thing, yall niggaz might blow Im finna drop that, so i suggest you lay low Buck, he from Cash, still tend a ki nigga He gettin em ten a piece, save ten fo me nigga (Chorus) (Verse 2)(Lloyd Banks) I've been sensin a lot of tension now that I'm rappin, but the kids used to look up to you, what happened? Me on the contrary, hand covered with Platinum Different colour Coupes but I'm in love with the black one. On point, cause you get R.I.P.s when slackin so the stash box big enough to squeeze the mac, and yeah I'm fairly new but I demand some respect cause i already wear your advance on my neck I'm fresh of the jet then i breeze to the beaches Blue yankee fitted, G-Unit Sneakers Already figured out what to do with all my features decorate the basement, full of street sweepers. When it comes to stuntin' there ain't nothin' you can teach us, We're in a different time zone, your records don't reach us, naw I ain't here to save the world, just roll up a blunt come with me out front, I'll teach you how to stunt! (Chorus) (Verse 3)(Young Buck) The kid's so icy, you dont have to like me In a throwback jersey, with the throwback Nike's I know you probably seen me with Cash Money from back in the days The only thing changed, is the numbers on the Range I bought me an Old School, and blew out the brains The Roc the Mic tour, I threw off my chain My Spreewell's spinnin man, Im doin my thing And whoadie now in trouble now, its you in the game Come on now, we all know gold is gettin old The ice in my teeth keep the Cristal cold G-Unit homie, actin like ya'll dont know Look - I cant even walk through the mall no more I just pull up, get out, and get all the hoes They never seen doors let up on a car before Dont be mad at me dawg, it's all I know Is how to show these fougaisies how its sposed to go (Chorus) |
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from Fantastic 4 (판타스틱 4) by John Ottman [omnibus, ost] (2005)
New York City
You are now rocking with the best Lloyd Banks G Unit We on fire up in here It's burning hot we on fire She'll take it off if it get too hot Up in this spot we on fire Tear the roof off this motherfucker Light the roof on fire Uh Nigga what you say We get loose in this motherfucker Light the roof on fire fire fire Now I aint putting nothing out I smoke when I wanna 26 inch chrome spokes on the Hummer This heat gon last for the whole summer Running your bitch faster then the Road Runner Rocks on my wrist rose gold under Glocks on my hip those throw thunder I'm riding Dalvins by the pier But when you stop the only thing still spinning is your ear Yeah I'm riding with that all black snub Raiders cap back all black gloves A ladies man but the boy smack thugs These record sales equal more back rubs Not to mention the boy pack clubs His impacts about as raw as crack was Now all these new artists getting wrong deals I'm only 21 sitting on mills We on fire up in here It's burning hot we on fire She'll take it off if it get too hot Up in this spot we on fire Tear the roof off this motherfucker Light the roof on fire Uh Nigga what you say We get loose in this motherfucker Light the roof on fire fire fire If you know anything about me then you know I'm a baller If I don't hit the first night I ain't gon call her I'm trying to play you trying to have my daughter But I can't blame her for what her momma taught her And I don't care bout what the next nigga bought Cause I aint putting no baguettes in her abuela I got a diamond about as clear as water And I got bread but I ain't spend a quarter So cut the games ma let's go in the back Matter fact turn your ass round back a nigga down And I aint bias when I'm riding through the town Like em small like em tall like em black like em brown She gotta be able to cum when I need her Tight ass pants little wife beater Regular chick or R&B diva Bitch say something I ain't a mind reader We on fire up in here It's burning hot we on fire She'll take it off if it get too hot Up in this spot we on fire Tear the roof off this motherfucker Light the roof on fire Uh Nigga what you say We get loose in this motherfucker Light the roof on fire fire fire |
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from Club Bangers (2006)
New York City
You are now rocking with the best Lloyd Banks G Unit We on fire up in here It's burning hot we on fire She'll take it off if it get too hot Up in this spot we on fire Tear the roof off this motherfucker Light the roof on fire Uh Nigga what you say We get loose in this motherfucker Light the roof on fire fire fire Now I aint putting nothing out I smoke when I wanna 26 inch chrome spokes on the Hummer This heat gon last for the whole summer Running your bitch faster then the Road Runner Rocks on my wrist rose gold under Glocks on my hip those throw thunder I'm riding Dalvins by the pier But when you stop the only thing still spinning is your ear Yeah I'm riding with that all black snub Raiders cap back all black gloves A ladies man but the boy smack thugs These record sales equal more back rubs Not to mention the boy pack clubs His impacts about as raw as crack was Now all these new artists getting wrong deals I'm only 21 sitting on mills We on fire up in here It's burning hot we on fire She'll take it off if it get too hot Up in this spot we on fire Tear the roof off this motherfucker Light the roof on fire Uh Nigga what you say We get loose in this motherfucker Light the roof on fire fire fire If you know anything about me then you know I'm a baller If I don't hit the first night I ain't gon call her I'm trying to play you trying to have my daughter But I can't blame her for what her momma taught her And I don't care bout what the next nigga bought Cause I aint putting no baguettes in her abuela I got a diamond about as clear as water And I got bread but I ain't spend a quarter So cut the games ma let's go in the back Matter fact turn your ass round back a nigga down And I aint bias when I'm riding through the town Like em small like em tall like em black like em brown She gotta be able to cum when I need her Tight ass pants little wife beater Regular chick or R&B diva Bitch say something I ain't a mind reader We on fire up in here It's burning hot we on fire She'll take it off if it get too hot Up in this spot we on fire Tear the roof off this motherfucker Light the roof on fire Uh Nigga what you say We get loose in this motherfucker Light the roof on fire fire fire |
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4:28 |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
I'm on parole, I used to be on probation
I'm with my gun I get full corporation I tell you "take it off" no hesitation Nigga you play around, I lay you down That's how it's goin' down Don't play wit' me, I don't have patients My headachin', and I need my medication Niggas be hatin', they don't know what they facin' Nigga you play around, I lay you down That's how it's goin' down I be in court throwin' signs like I'm a mason Nigga witness against me, I'm a erase 'em If they try an runaway, I'm a chase 'em Now with the pound, and I'm a lay 'em down That's how it's goin' down [Chorus] Better watch how you talk Better watch where you walk On the streets of New York That's how we get down 22's on the jeep Somethin' deep in the seat When we creep wit the heat That's how we get down Wise men listen and laugh while fools talk Stick up kids don't live long in New York Fuck around and catch the wrong jukes on the street Get caught slippin', then get hit wit' like three In every hood in the US, I'm that nigga they feelin' Rap full of good guys, 50 Cent is the villain I play the bar with 8 bottles all night gettin' right Teachin' the hood rats what Cristal taste like I put 60 on wrist, 12 on my fist, 100 on my neck We in the hood nigga schemin', what you expect? My S on 22's leave ya hos confused On the track ready to choose, like "Daddy we want you" My love live ain't change, the shorties still hug me Bullet wound in my face, and bitches still love me Now Nelly told you how them country boys talk I came to teach you how we put it down in New York That's how we get down [Chorus] In the city, a young buck'll tell you how the mac spit O.G. give 'em the word, you gonna get yo' ass hit I don't know why niggas like to talk bad about me I'm the richest nigga they know without a G.E.D. Man it could be the money, it could be the ice It could be they'd like to be me and can't live my life You should here they be sayin' man "50 be flippin'" "Shot my man over 7 grams, that nigga be trippin'" I know death is promised, I don't fear gettin' murked It's when a nigga half-way killa ya homie, it hurts Now we can hit the club and get it crunked Or you could start some shit, and I could hit you with The pump, you can have it how you want But I know you like my style (Uh-Huh) Ya like how I break it down, want to get rich? I'll show you how, take this pack, pump these pieces That's how we get down [Chorus] |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
So you say you a gangsta, right
Are you really a rider, yea You don't take shit from no one, no And got your mind on your motherfuckin' dough, lets go I'll be a South Side nigga till I rot Even though I got the yacht in the million dollar bot Superman armor on the '69 drop 0ut of every 70 rappers 69 flop I blowed a buck in the corner, just to get the feel My head light smooth when I move the steering wheel I ain't running from nothing, its top dollar to chill I pop bottles for real, with pop artists that kill I move 2 mill, my backyard is a field I ain't tough for the tube, I'll smack y'all for real Go head hate on me now, you'll miss a nigga later I'm hood like butter holes and pissy elevators I went from playing the same block to Bangkok So I can get money between raindrops And my piece so heavy I pop a chain a week And get so much pussy I cant sleep [Chorus] Poppa was a rolling stone Never came back home now I'm on my own So I had to learn a few things bout survival Like the ice pick done off the bottom If you scared don't come around here Guns ammunition don't run out here As soon you get the paper you try it A nigga try me he wont see tomorrow I ain't even got a license yet and got 7 cars, yep TV the same size as Kevin Garnett A brand new buzz, Mac 10 and a chopper White fan base cause Eminem is my partner I'm a Ferrari and Jag copper, you a glass shopper I blow marijuana the color of grass hopper I ain't a regular nigga All the promoters pay 100 more to bring your boy to Singapore My dress code got the best hoes jumping on 'em Elvis's and Red Monkey with the monkey on 'em Shelves'll leave a niggas food stamps blue Like a full tube of acid in your shampoo We don't tolerate the cock blocking out the bricks We got fif's with the cop stoppers in the clips Watch your mouth bitch, there's rocks popping out the wrists And my outfits, a eye stopper for the chicks [Chorus] A nigga throw his hands up at me, I send a dummy harmed And had money wrong shoot him in his underarm Pick up a shell, that'll be his lucky charm I got a chunky arm, I'm a fucking Don I burn big everyday, nothing but the bong I don't cuddle, as soon as I get the nut I'm gone I'm in a class all by myself I'll whoop your ass all by myself I got white gold, rose gold, yellow gold, platinum Young hoes, old hoes, yellow ones and black ones I been patiently waiting to get on my shit again So this is for the corner they cornered a nigga in I wish you would try jump me, I'll wave the gat by you And burn your eyelashes off like a crack lighter Nigga you stupid riding by trying to blast me Cause my window got the glass from a taxi [Chorus] |
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3:44 |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
Uh, two figures up, yup, Henny in my cup, yup
Semi in the cut, yup, a very nice truck, yup I'm all iced up, yup, pocket k***** up, yup I knock your wife up, yup, man, I don't give a f***, nah The Unit's in this b****, yeah , you know who I'm with, yeah Rolling out the piff, yeah, six after six, yeah Hangin' out the whips rocks dangling off my wrist, yeah I'm a ball till I die, why? 'Cause I'm a Play be O why Guess who's the man this quarter, the rich playing the boarder Your papers much shorter, my safe is this big Not from New York to Georgia, they recognize the slaughter Diamonds around the boarder, a platin' 'em ice pick We in them Lambs the color of Candy Yams The only n****z in the city with Miami tints I picked up my advance and took off out to France Thousand dollar pants and hundred thousand dollar hands Mummy I don't dance, I rock, I bop I half a ounce of s***** in my sock, I'm hot If I like it I'm a cop it on the spot, why not? These haters still won't give me my props, I'm shocked I do it for the concrete, the curb, the block All I got is the street, my word, my c*** These little n****z emulating' me know why? Know why, know why? 'Cause I'm a Play be O why Uh, two figures up, yup, Henny in my cup, yup Semi in the cut, yup, a very nice truck, yup I'm all iced up, yup, pocket k***** up, yup I knock your wife up, yup, man I don't give a f***, nah The Unit's in this b****, yeah, you know who I'm with, yeah Rolling out the piff, yeah, six after six, yeah Hanging out the whips rocks dangling off my wrist, yeah I'm a ball till I die, why? 'Cause I'm a Play be O why Hey, pull up in a Benz, hoodie and my Timbs Hologram rims, a lot of Benjamin's I shop till I drop, I stunt when I want Rollin' b**** after b****, blowin' be'emp out the trunk Now I can take a s*** on all of y'all, d'emp after d'emp I'm high and I'm drunk, havin' lunch at the trunk Don't front and get to rockin', and my click is popping Now my hits is dropping that's why the chickens flocking I ain't a come up, I got the Louis black Hydraulics on the 'Lac, I pop and whoolie that Now we got enough toys to knock the city back Beef and broccoli fitted cap, he's the rockiest in rap They copyin' my moves I cruise on twenty-two's Big pools, money and jewels, that's all I never do is The illest never one at a time, just by the two's And ooh, you should see what my song make them do Uh, two figures up, yup, Henny in my cup, yup Semi in the cut, yup, a very nice truck, yup I'm all iced up, yup, pocket k***** up, yup I knock your wife up, yup, man I don't give a f***, nah The Unit's in this b****, yeah, you know who I'm with, yeah Rolling out the piff, yeah, six after six, yeah Hanging out the whips rocks dangling off my wrist, yeah I'm a ball till I die, why? 'Cause I'm a Play be O why If you come from the bottom put your hands up The hood f*** up the rap then put your hands up You and your click get it popping' put your hands up And if you front I'm leaving' out of there in handcuffs Now put 'em up, put 'em up Put 'em up, put 'em up Put 'em up, put 'em up Yeah, man I don't give a f*** what you said Now put 'em up, put 'em up Put 'em up, put 'em up Put 'em up, put 'em up |
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2:46 |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
Money, money, money, money
Cake I need the cake nigga The Unit don't play, we rap but we strapped Buck got the shotgun, 50 got the mack Spida got the sweeper and you bound to hear it clap You won't have another birthday cake afta that Cause Yayo got a temper and he don't know how to act I've been gone all winter but now a nigga back To get the money, the money The money, the money, the cake And you mutha fuckas lookin' like steak Food on the plate for the wolves, follow wolves Don't get moved by the tools Blood will ooze on ya shoes wait, control ya hate You ain't ridin' in dem 6s Cause you spendin' all ya cake on dem bitches I need the bread lil' niggas need Christmas Banks don't rap wit a back pack I'm in it for the money, the money The money, the money, the cake You heard Banks said so I know I got the mack I pull up, pull out spray hollows at your back I don't give a fuck, it's goin' down like that I done been through every hood, dead niggas gone rap In the heart of a victim murda is monumental I don't complicate shit, yeah I keep it simple My bullet wounds will tell you a story 'bout wut I been through Southside trama drama wit' gallamas I conversate wit' killas, it's usually about life Politicate wit' lawness, it's usually 'bout white I'm da poster child of violence, I'm the boy on the poster When the shots start to rang out I'm the boy wit' the toaster Yeah, listen up clicko, I hustle I get though You fuckin' wit a sicko, I spazz let a clip go Cannon out da rental, beam to ya temple I squeeze blow your mental, all ova ya friends Me I'm from the street, where nothin' sweet The home of the hommies, there's a body every week Now I don't hear the sirens but they prolly gonna creep Plottin' to pull me ova, put the cake in my jeep So I'll be skippin' cities seven states in aweek Can't a mutha fuckin' breathin' tell me I can't eat Show me the money, the money The money, the money, the cake Niggas slow down, pump ya breaks No mistakes cause the jakes, run the plates Then you headed up state for rollin' 'round wit' a steak Niggas start up the beef and run straight to the cops You a bitch ass nigga, the cupcake of the block Any nigga disrespect the click gettin' shot 'Round here niggas get found upside down Ova the money, the money The money, the money, the cake Cake Money, money, money, money Cake |
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4:46 |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
Uh
G-Yeah I'm back [Chorus] I'm a G-Unit nigga that means I don't play by the rules But I can make you move About a quarter mill on juice so I ride around with the oohs Now that'll make um move Ma, you should stay in or come to me make up your mind I lashed out too fast to take my time I got to get in position to make her mine 'cause I ain't leavin' the club without my dime You know I got my nine Think twice before you cross that line Nigga you must have lost your mind Thinkin' you can get off my shines Shorty got to shakin' and I'm waitin' to take her home It's hot as hell in here and I'm bakin' up a Patron I know a couple different ways I can make 'um bone And when I'm done with her, she'll wanna take a nigga to Rome Give me a hour I have her blowin' up my phone Like a stem to a stone she won't leave me alone Million dollar nigga I get it and show off But Doja, give ma minute with your boss, I'll fold ya New York fitted and gold cross in a Rover Holster, all over the shoulder I'm the sickest thing spittin' in N-Y Your plane ain't the same, it's different when I fly South side player play around and get shot Twenty four hours steak out on your block Don't get your views confused with Hip-Hop 'fore you wind up on the news, now watch the hit drop [Chorus] Yeah From what I hear niggas don't like me It's funny, they wanna be jus' like me You bummy, it's jealousy more than likely The money, they made a nigga all icey Four finger ring that boy doin' his thing V-V-S Bling my chain long as a swing Boulevard king over known in Beijing Fully prepared for whatever the drama may bring Sixty-nine scraper with the up and down pumps Murder is forever don't fuck around once Bottle after bottle I down 'um till I'm drunk If you ain't chipped in don't come around my blunt Grimey and gritty New York City's top gun First nigga act up gets a hot one B-P-V the bottom and top done I get there, I gets it, I'm done, one [Chorus] Yeah I don't know about you but I'm doin' it for the queue Whip brand new size twenty-two shoe Use your money don't let your money use you I got a cruise view, you know the usual My life's beautful, my pockets full of bread You get outta pocket I play soccer with your head And that girl ain't your girl know the difference boy Nigga I done killed more niggas than a liquor store I left somethin' on her when I seen her And she was rubbin' it in, like Nakazeena She will kill big niggas, cute big hips And she's pretty convincin', a video vixen If you lookin' for a mack I fit the description Chicks see him take pictures and kiss him Back blockin' nigga I get it and I'm good I'm hood, livin' life like you should [Chorus] Grew up in the Y New York that is Why-why-Ya know the name I handle my biz, kid |
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4:00 |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
I Wasn't gone if you missed me
Put 'em up Put 'em up put 'em up put 'em up put 'em up Put 'em up put 'em up put 'em up put 'em up Hands up shorty when you party with me we goin' way past quarter to three I said Hands Up I'm good in the V I P I got my hammer right here with me I said Hands Up You know when you party with crooks you gotta learn to respect the jooks I said Hands Up Everything ain't cruise to fame this shit ain't sweet as it looks I said Hands Up You know I'm puttin' something on me right before I leave outta the car We came to party You don't tough talkin' at me you gon' leave outta the club with a scar We came to party We pop bottles like it's all free fo' I leave I'ma buy out the bar We came to party You can order what you want it's on me I'm a G take a look at star We came to party It feels so good to live sucker free I'm soakin' it all up while your girl suckin' me It mean the world to her it's nothing but a nut to me Look miss get a grip and let a motherfucker be I'm a rap star Who wants to be ridin' around in that car Two in the front and the back got the plasma This ain't a free ride you gotta have the gas mile I wouldn't buy a chick a pump that got asthma And I'm busy so I move a bit faster You can't tell me yes if I don't ask ya Huh I'm a bastard Damn near showin' his hand over the plastic Cause they wanna see your man go in the casket Rule number one keep your gun and get your ass hit that's it Lights off and your body's stiff By the same niggas you used to party with Hands up shorty when you party with me we goin' way past quarter to three I said Hands Up I'm good in the V I P I got my hammer right here with me I said Hands Up You know when you party with crooks you gotta learn to respect the jooks I said Hands Up Everything ain't cruise to fame this shit ain't sweet as it looks I said Hands Up You know I'm puttin' something on me right before I leave outta the car We came to party You don't tough talkin' at me you gon' leave outta the club with a scar We came to party We pop bottles like it's all free fo' I leave I'ma buy out the bar We came to party You can order what you want it's on me I'm a G take a look at star We came to party I cruise through the strip 22's on the whip New rule gonna hit Thousand dollar outfit Never snooze never slip Follow rules or get whip Nigga move or get hit I don't care who's on the strip It ain't only the Ferrari now the jewels got him sick Now it's 2006 I need a new bottom miss It's aight they can talk I'm amused by the pricks I'm the news out the bricks nigga who's hot as this I bet the mansion and the swimming pool got 'em pissed I ain't a cuddler I fuck the drool outta chick My niggas ice grill but it ain't the same They don't see the faces they don't see the chains Like Ooo when you get 'em they don't know you with me They probably think the bouncers at the front door frisk me This is regular shit the erryday mentality They charged up don't make me put in the battery Hands up shorty when you party with me we goin' way past quarter to three I said Hands Up I'm good in the V I P I got my hammer right here with me I said Hands Up You know when you party with crooks you gotta learn to respect the jooks I said Hands Up Everything ain't cruise to fame this shit ain't sweet as it looks I said Hands Up You know I'm puttin' something on me right before I leave outta the car We came to party You don't tough talkin' at me you gon' leave outta the club with a scar We came to party We pop bottles like it's all free fo' I leave I'ma buy out the bar We came to party You can order what you want it's on me I'm a G take a look at star We came to party Put 'em up put 'em up put 'em up put 'em up Put 'em up put 'em up put 'em up put 'em up Put 'em up put 'em up put 'em up put 'em up Put 'em up put 'em up put 'em up put 'em up |
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3:55 |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
G-Unit
Uh, a one two, a one two Uh, a one two, a one two Yeah Uh, a one two, a one two Excuse me miss, you must be some kind of a model Enough to make a shopper run out of the column Enough to make a weak nigga go mano why mano Guess what you strong as rum out of the bottle God bless you when he made me I mean he blessed me when he made you I got a little game to They know me everywhere I go that's what fame do Where we can get it on the low what's your name blue? You stuck in your ways but I know how to change you Arrange you tell you things like your my angel There's no rules when it comes to this, write down your number miss They call me Banks, my government is Chris They feel me in the burbs, love me in the bricks Four inch whips, on a buggy six First class trips and the bubbly's Cris I work so hard to live like this My past make me so weak But you make me stronger 'Cause everything was upside down Now I'm right back where I belong Help, I think Cupid got me Shock me all over my body I think I'm losin' my cool So I'm doin' things I don't do Yeah, I got it hop in the ride so I could holla My favorite girl outside of my Impala I ain't gon' say you a dream I don't gotta You could walk around in the street with no problems I pick up all the G that he speaks so don't bother The innocent role ain't workin' work harder I ain't tryin' to lock you down I'm no father But maybe we can go for it if you just listen It's hard as hell for a man in my position They pickin' your girl out you gotta know the difference I wonder if it's even in one in existence Enough to keep my attention to go the distance And I'm have to look hard to find a better one 'Cause you sex is a 187 'hon You get a nigga doin' shit I ain't never done So now even when I'm on tour I let her come My past make me so weak But you make me stronger 'Cause everything was upside down Now I'm right back where I belong Help, I think Cupid got me Shock me all over my body I think I'm losin' my cool So I'm doin' things I don't do You're not the ones like I'm used to I see us happy in our future I'm givin' you all I have My heart, my soul, my laugh 'Cause you are the only thing I need I could have everything and more Give you the feelin' you can't ignore My past make me so weak But you make me stronger 'Cause everything was upside down Now I'm right back where I belong Help, I think Cupid got me Shock me all over my body I think I'm losin' my cool So I'm doin' things I don't do |
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3:00 |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
Yea G-Unit
I think I gotta have it Its keeps pullin' me in like a magnet Going with this kinda music puts me right back on the block, block Its like crack to an addict It ain't to hard for me to grab it Going with this kinda music puts me right back on the block, block Uh man I think I'm addicted to the life that I had So I risk it runnin' the street with the heat boy Three deep in the S-U-V the bigger you blow the less you see The more you hear a real nigga lost his life right there Its hard to believe a flippers the reason he's not here Damn and still get killed over somethin' that ain't his And jeapordize the well bein of him and his kids That's how it is cigs in old cribs dudes that tote pigs Live with broke ribs or went under the dirt with the worms The results of the colds pack funeral homes You know the names cause we tatooin' 'em on I'm gone just cruisin' back 2 in the mornin' So fuck rap I'm comin' at you in the song When you hear the (click clack) point it at you n your gone I think I gotta have it Its keeps pullin' me in like a magnet Going with this kinda music puts me right back on the block, block Its like crack to an addict It ain't to hard for me to grab it Going with this kinda music puts me right back on the block, block Ey I got my pockets right my rocks are bright The drop is blue n the watch is white Right that's why they watchin' me As far as I can see its all mockery And I'm tryna be all I can be Now that my foots in the door there's no stoppin' me Pure poetry I got a little pac in me Now internationally they jockin' me Cause my money green n blue like monopoly Yea I left a name all around the globe Yet still south side I was brought up by the code (south side) N I was told everything ain't gold its cause the glitter And had to drown the pain with the liquer The world don't turn unless the money move The early bird get the worm and the dummy's lose True you hear the struggle and the grind when I talk I breathe and I bleed new york I think I gotta have it Its keeps pullin' me in like a magnet Going with this kinda music puts me right back on the block, block Its like crack to an addict It ain't to hard for me to grab it Going with this kinda music puts me right back on the block, block |
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4:05 |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
Uh,
Uh, Yeah [Chorus] Ay I'm focused now, they notice now Shorty to ride with me you got to hold this down But you ain't got to worry cause we run this town A nigga run up on me will get his ass gunned down (You know the deal, it's all about a Dollar Bill You know the deal, it's all about a Dollar Bill You know the deal, it's all about a Dollar Bill You know for reals, the only way that I can chill) Uh, niggas won't understand 'til they man fall From a exit wound big as a handball, damn y'all Can a nigga spend a mill for a house on the hill as tall as a Ferris wheel? Niggas better chill, for the Barretta peel Knock off your head and ill, whole bunch of red'll spill Nigga I'm rollin' up, system blowin', hater's glowin' up, frozen up Range Rover truck color Coconut I used to be broke ass fuck, 'til I woke 'em up I'll show you how to stroke a slut, get in her throat and gut Then it's back to postin' up, wheels pokin' out Smoke about enough to have you gaspin' and chokin' out I - do what I wanna when I wanna ball when it's summer Leave out the club, squeeze 'em all in the Hummer Stitching in the seats, interior Peanut Butter Brand new Pelle Pelle, Nine-millimeter under [Chorus] Uh, Banks is back yeah the punchline boy You've got to be a millionaire to touch my toy I figured, I'll let the haters see it one more time I skeet off zero to sixty in three-point-nine Besides, I gotta make the jewelery store on time I look like I bought the jewelery store this time And it's hard to live like a Rap Star on the cover I got three Magnums, the gun, car, and the rubber I got a fur fetish, a three-quarter cut habit Nigga that ain't chinchilla, it's plucked parrot Part rabbit, go find your heart faggot I prey niggas find your foot and toe tag it There ain't never a drought, I got the sour on tour So raw I gotta hotel towel on the door Hoes all around the hotel pilled to the floor They done followed your boss since two-thousand and four [Chorus] From here on out it's manslaughter for the masses And classics courtesy of Mr. Mathers You bastards heard of me I get the cash It's the American way I go to bed with the 'K I got red, blue and white don't even ask about ice I look like a cop car flashin' his lights All he want to do is chit chat and make tapes about him 'Til they lost like Malcolm before the "Nation" got him Out in timbaland tearing the coup, my wrist chunky like Campbells soup Niggas shoot, I done been around the world And I'm right here you won't hurt me I'll put your ass on ice yeah, cold turkey I'm blowin' Purple, the Haze mixed with Hershey I done gave you style, now reimburse me And it ain't no more love you get the "Birdie" I'm a be in the number one spot 'til I'm thirty [Chorus] |
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5:01 |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
Front on me and get clapped
Front on him and get clapped Front on us and get clapped (you get clapped nigga) Front on me and get clapped Front on him and get clapped Front on us and get clapped (get clapped get clapped) [Chorus] I know this feel different cause everything is good They actin' like I changed like I went Hollywood Like I don't keep it street like I ain't got the heat Like I ain't homicide all over the beat Like I ain't for the beef like I don't really care Cause I ain't camera shy we can do it any where There's diamonds in my chain there's diamonds in my ear A nigga come slippin' ill make him disappear Ay nigga fuck all the slick talk get bread instead Stay low strapped up metal on inf red Too smooth won't slip new jewels don't trip Been around the world twice jet, lear, boat, whip Oh shit, I'm hella rowdy and I'm nothin' nice Money ain't shit but a number name ya fuckin' price Dick rider, coat taylor, ass kisser Sucker for love, time to pick up the glass slipper Look around ass nigga before you add liquer Cause bein' an add libber he'll be ina bag with ya I'm seein' a bad picture of bein' a cab skipper Broke as fuck waitin' for Satan to come and get ya Keep ya clique tight know ya goals Don't speed slow ya role don't speak learn the code For they pop ya ass barbecue ya body With beans outta the shotty while I'm in the Maserati With somethin' that's gonna swallow me [Chorus] My trigga finger feenin' that nigga p a demon Nigga my fangs start showin' if I'm seein' you dreamin' Get to close and I'm bustin' it won't be no discussion I'm a boss I don't speak I just nod my head And you turn up missin' with ya own page in the feds I got power and I will flex on you real quick Call ya dawgs call ya trick hug ya moms for you split 'cause you ain't never gone see that bitch again And this ain't a war nigga we just havin' fun with ya Like a bed with a baby if I smack ya I might kill ya Half a million in diamonds half a billion from rhymin' N I'm steady climbin' that means I'm still blowin up Got you burned while you lookin' see my Ferrari in Brooklyn On the corner of murda and duke so come through Ill light ya buildin' on fire that's why these rappers retire 'cause they tired of dealin' with niggas like me [Chorus] Now enough with all the lame shit and wrestlin' games kid I need the rocks to fill the rest of the chain with I need the block to feel the best that I came with I need the cops to get the fuck off of my dick Different day same shit media and paparazzi love Envy and betrayal my hearts as cold as hockey gloves I light up and take off that beef and broccoli high Chocolate tie, green skunk, south Jamaica queens punk Stand up ya boys back put ya grams up Get money you ain't heard nothin' but a hit from me Quit dummy cause its a changin' of the guards Beat bitches over the head the caveman of the squad And he barely fell victim cause they raised him up so hard So my 9 is on my hip and my praise is up to god Cause we in a battle field where the razors lead to scars And the lazers lead to holes, slugs in n out ya clothes [Chorus] (Yea) Hey Yo p, fuck these niggas man Ill buck these niggas man, can't nobody else get no money Cause this is our year, next year is our year The year after is our year, the year after is our year (Yea) G,G,G,G,G G-Unit |
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3:10 |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
Uh! I'm doin' my thang (I'm doin' my thang)
G-Unit's my gang (G-Unit's my gang) Ma I gotta get mine (Ma I gotta get mine) All the day all the time (All the day all the time) Nigga you know how we roll (Nigga you know how we roll) Twenty three's twenty four's (Twenty three's twenty four's) I'm holdin' my ground (I'm holdin' my ground) In case somethin' goes down (In case somethin' goes down) Uh! Yeah don't fall for a big butt and a smile They set ya up you fuck around have to buck in the crowd Around my way, ain't sunshine ev'ryday Niggas'll cross ya, you should hear the slang they say In a land of attitudes A-K's and accidents Where niggas split blunts eight ways and pack the bitch Mama spit me out with a spindle and I been mackin' since And I'm stubborn, so I don't lean back and flinch Your perpetratin', embarrasin' the crooks Plus your frontin' they only seen Paris in the books Whenever you leave the bricks watch the niggas you roll with Before you know it niggas be shootin' up yo' shit The clubs a fashion show, so niggas go get And rev up all the broke niggas rockin' they old shit Before the night is done they be another murder Put your money to the side for another burner [Chorus] (Stranger) Don't bring 'em 'round if I don't know 'em like that I feel like it's targets all over my back Because of these broads that's layin' over my lap A nigga that young ain't 'sposed to live like that I just saw the dealer and I'm goin right back Stashin' my guns cause I know they might rat I'm doin' my thang (I'm doin' my thang) G-Unit's my gang (G-Unit's my gang) Uh! I'm frontin' in my G62's the yellow and royal blues I'm better than all you dudes hot metal for all you fools The one that niggas admire many study all my moves And I'm focused, cause I'm a end up bloody if I snooze You a sucker for love, or maybe I'm a bit different If you ask me, is your baby mama's a pigeon? I just bought the mansion and ma dukes pop the ribbon And I'm out poppin' Cris bitch I'll show you how I'm livin' I keep havin' them dreams bout niggas gettin' the drop on me Lettin' them things fly up and down the block for me True fear niggas don't feel ya they triflin' But I adapt, cause I used to think just like 'em As soon as I hit the top I noticed the sudden change It's probably the Maserati, Ferrari, yeah the Range This is Southside street talk the hood slang And my product, a open your nose like good Caine [Chorus] |
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3:35 |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
Yea uh
I like the way that sounds Uh uh N-N-N-N-N-N-Now Check Check Nigga you feelin' like a frog when you jump One leap will bring ya from the bar to the trunk From the trunk to the dump I'm a rain on em, put the chump on a slump Like a rib shot, that's what the customers want Don't ya?, This ain't ya typical story The fore I don't fall in the category I'm cool, calm and collective, Yukon or the Lexis Blue chronic for breakfast, to match with the necklace Dimes all way down till the rats wanna check this Reckless, born treacherous, sworn specialist Especially, if ya rest next to me Nigga come testin' me you'll get the gun recipe These old niggas want the new born sound Actin' like they don't know who hold New York down Yea I use to buy Knick's, ten years later Now I'm super fly slick without a roof on my whip, shit I slip 100 proof till I'm ripped And wave at the haters, got em root canal sick Tell me you niggas like to make a scene so the lamas close That kind of shit don't fly like Mama jokes We got em long, short, all kind of toast Boy I done left shit trails all around the coast To places you gettin' 'round by boat I get a pound, I smoke, I put it down, I'm dope I'm on scope when I pass the block, I make traffic stop A product of everything that made the apple rot This apple jacks, way long before the platinum plaques The pro-tools and the wax Take a step back before ya catch a contact The flow's like a M-16 wit the arm strapped I'm a bomb on these niggas till they can't bomb back The Hiroshima demeanor, microphone crack [Chorus] A lot of shit has changed since I came Y'all done came around here fuckin' up the game Therefore I ain't servin' nothin' but the pain You playin', I'm hungrier than a motherfucka' man Rob a store before you walk around poor Cause you ain't gettin' from me you grown boy You fuelin' up my fire when you hate So I'm a lean on you till you make a mistake I can't wait And to the curtains close Its just me, the tooly, and them purple O's, Endo overload, drive like I own the roads These niggas is puss, that's why my shoulders cold Mac by the toilet bowl I'm ridin' filthy in the Beamer Cause I can have lima and a colina bring it to a misdemeanor You drown in deep water Every nigga around come from the street corner Where you need your heat on ya I'm on recline while my next CD climb South Side greedy dine, red wine, DB 9 N-Y-P-D grind, why?, it ain't a easy grind A nigga try to get mine I'm a feed him nine And its graffiti time, niggas sprayin' your mural For tryin' to be a motherfuckin' hero I'm fresh, fly and flashy, best guy if you ask me Jet by on em nasty, nigga you in a taxi I can't wait [Chorus] Ha ha ha Yea, ugh, G,G,G,G,G-Unit Boy |
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3:30 |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
Don't talk tough talker unless you walk the walk
We grimy, we dirty in New York, New York Blood spill around here and don't care about court You take a pack and bring it back, don't come up short 'Cause any day can be your day, so don't play Yay got the yay, Fame got the **, okay You scared, get the f*** out the way And pray, them G-Unit boys don't play Nah, I can't play sacs or pull a rabbit out a hat But I can c*** back and blow your blather out your back Take that, I'll show you n****z how to rap I'm c****, that's snowy white p***** on the track I told 50 I was going to take it to the top Get close and get pop like hot bacon out the pot And my goons are loony and strip you naked on the spot Ain't nobody scared in south, Jamaica but the cops And speaking' 'bout cops, you n****z better stop quelling And if I get knocked, I'll make bread on your head by the million Crawl up the ladder tattle tattle be in the building Don't talk tough talker unless you walk the walk We grimy, we dirty in New York, New York Blood spill around here and don't care about court You take a pack and bring it back, don't come up short 'Cause any day can be your day, so don't play Yay got the yay, Fame got the **, okay You scared, get the f*** out the way And pray, them G-Unit boys don't play I roll up 'cause it's a hold up, ain't nothing funny Stop smiling, it be the reason the crowd piling Don't complain and die over a chain Bang, bang, gang green neighborhood game You know me I'm slipper as them baggy sweets I throw a b**** out the crib like Jazzy Jeff All the hate is sidelining and they mad he next 'Cause I got the bunny's with them fatties, yes My ride thumping, talking s***, stunting It will be repeated thumping if my finger push the button Just for bluffing, hit for nothing You can bust him, it don't matter the vehicle's custom Don't talk tough talker unless you walk the walk We grimy, we dirty in New York, New York Blood spill around here and don't care about court You take a pack and bring it back, don't come up short 'Cause any day can be your day, so don't play Yay got the yay, Fame got the **, okay You scared, get the f*** out the way And pray, them G-Unit boys don't play I'm from New York, New York n****z die for the cheese I air your house out like a can of Fabreeze, at ease Ease up soldier, I pull up in the rover Click clack, ya whole life over Baking soda and your work they go' buy it, nope 'Cause them fiends getting tired of that dying coke I'm back baby, mad hype like a c**** baby Ask Slim Shady, my g** game crazy Don't talk tough talker unless you walk the walk We grimy, we dirty in New York, New York Blood spill around here and don't care about court You take a pack and bring it back, don't come up short 'Cause any day can be your day, so don't play Yay got the yay, Fame got the **, okay You scared, get the f*** out the way And pray, them G-Unit boys don't play |
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3:57 |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
<i>[Lloyd Banks (Singer) Intro]</i>
Uh... (Oooooohhh) Uh huh... (Ooohh) Yeah... <i>[Singer]</i> I'm one night standin' My joy ride has just begun Girl I'm the one that can get the job done And not fall victim to the hit and run I'm one night standin' No breakfast in bed today Soon as day break I be on my way MIA back to JFK <i>[Lloyd Banks Verse]</i> Yeah.. Shorty damn near mine without the whip and chain bet if I don't get the ass, I'mma get the brain whether she knows or don't know what the scriptures sayin' I'm a player with a league pass, ma I get the games whether I hit her don't hit she won't forget the name (Banks!) Lloyd Banks you know the yellow nigga with the change a frozen hand on the metal when I whip the Range I'm sittin' sideways, dazed and switchin' lanes there's a 60-inch plasma in the master room and we can sleep the whole morning and fuck the way to afternoon I had a way with words since I had a half a moon and I'm tourin' the world all winter, I'll be back in June you ain't gotta handle a mop, or push back a broom there's Maids for that, this where the paper with the papers at scars are a part of my story I can't take it back maybe that's why I look at shit like that (Yeah!) <i>[Singer]</i> I'm one night standin' My joy ride has just begun Girl I'm the one that can get the job done And not fall victim to the hit and run I'm one night standin' No breakfast in bed today Soon as they ring shots I be on my way MIA back to JFK <i>[Lloyd Banks Verse]</i> Uh... And it's the same thing around the way just a lot more drama, you have to swing around the K I never got the ones I wanted just the ones that wanted me look at her, she got the vapours 'cause I'm on TV lookin' like a million dollars in that blue GT and my Reeze and my blue EV's, bitch please I have you feelin' like you hit the jackpot 'cause my backshots, equivalent to crack rock I have you hooked off, dick prank callin' you bitch going back and forth with your friends paintallin' my whip besides I done gave you the sign, you just wouldn't read it now you feelin' like Keyshia Cole and "You Should've Cheated" so fucked up, I pay it to never mind mind on my money, money keep shit together, I'm probably goin' where you drove and lookin' listenin' to the radio and half way out of Brooklyn, good lookin' <i>[Singer]</i> I'm one night standin' My joy ride has just begun Girl I'm the one that can get the job done And not fall victim to the hit and run I'm one night standin' No breakfast in bed today Soon as day break I be on my way MIA back to JFK <i>[Singer (Lloyd Banks) Outro]</i> I'm one night standin'... (You know how it goes...) I've got to leave you girl... (I be here today... Goin' tomorrow...) I'm one night standin'... (Uh!) I've got to leave you girl (Ha ha... Pick me up yeah...) I'm one night standin'... Wish I could stay... But I gotta play.... La la la laaaaa laaa laaaaaaa.... La la laaaaa... La la la laaaaa laaa laaaaaaa.... La la laaaaa... |
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5:27 |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
Yeah! Uh, I'm back
Uh, ha ha Uh, ooh [Chorus] Yeah yeah, they know me 'round here, they call me Iceman I ain't your friend boy, I'll fuck your wife man Look at my left, now look at my right hand Every time I move it looks like a strike of lightning My name is Banks, but you can call me Igloo There's white rocks on my neck, and my wrist's blue So don't trip, cause you know I got my pistol You'll be surprised of the doors that it gets through Yeah, Louie introduced me to jewelry, now I'm lovin' it Tell Jacob the shinin's so good, them hoes love the shit Diamond after diamond, and I climbed up out the bottom So holla if it's a problem, I got 'em just like you got 'em I'm stylin' they grillin' cause my whip can buy a skyscraper Roll down the windows stick my hand out, "Hi hater!" I'm on my way to L.A., I'll see you guys later You'll be here when I get back, ain't got no time to drink that Now all I do is sit back, hop on the plane and sip 'gnac Hop in the Range and whip that, came in the game with this crap You say my name you get smacked, right on your brain with the gat Know who you playin with Black, then holla back [Chorus] My name is Buck, but you can call me Icey I keep spillin' Cristal on my white T Don't give a fuck, bitch you ain't gotta like me I pop my trunk and have you runnin' in your Nike's Look what I just bought, this white mink I got it in New York And this bright link I put it on and walk right out the store Where's my car keys? What am I gon' drive? My Phantom got the steering wheel on the wrong side Pocket full of cash, Ferrari with the drive-out tags Them hoes followin' us, let me stop and get some gas Liberace, the cops watch me I'm ice skatin' like a nigga playin' hockey ? holla back [Chorus] Canary yellow princess cut, rocks when I smile Fat boy kept it gritty since I was a chubby child Look at me now, hat cocked up, wristwatch rocked up When I put my hand up to my mouth and hit that sticky stuff The light, hit the ice, on my eight-ways piece In the streets, I'm a G; on the mic, I'm a beast Keep a bitch, on her knees, nigga please, I'm a pimp Purge first, ask last, I'm a shark, you a shrimp Check a deuce, Chevrolet, rims taller than my son Gun, on the seat with a extra clip cause I ain't fin' to run In my brand new, shell toe, three stripe, all white In other words, come my way with that shit you gon' lose your life [Chorus] What the fuck are they yellin' Dope man, anybody killa in the hood, fuck the homeboy sellin' I've got a problem with him - if I can't touch it Then he can't slang it, and these streets get dangerous Corny niggas pull up in cargo vans Palms sweaty, icky's out with they masks all mad I gave 'em the order, and that's all bad Born into flossin' flashin' got his mark-ass, smashed The Iceman is in the buildin' chillin' Big game huntin' and this lame's, stuntin' Got an addiction that's deeper than a prescription He's sleepin' I'm on a mission to beat him in my position It's fucked [Chorus] They know me 'round here, they call me Iceman Watch out They know me 'round here, they call me Iceman Watch out, I'll fuck yo' wife man They know me 'round here, they call me Iceman Watch out They know me 'round here, I'll fuck yo' wife man Watch out, yeah |
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4:00 |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
Yeah, ooh
You n****s know what time it is? It's time for that gangsta s*** We ain't got s*** to live for You either headed for the pen Or you're on your way to Gilmore In the middle of the real war 'Cause a five dollar bill is the s*** n****s kill for I make a million out, yeah I don't care about a muthaf***a out there My heart cold and my wrist rock And I f*** around and die over Hip Hop I treat a dollar like a mill, countin' every bill 'Cause if I don't watch mine another muthaf***a will I went double but I still tuck the s**** I'm the truth, why the f*** you think 50 cut the deal Rollin' in a bag of * when you cut the seal When I bling the paint job on a Coupe De Ville I ain't never had a pop, poppa never had a son Nobody to go get, so I ain't never run They chat behind my back but they quiet when I come They treat a lil' n**** like a giant with a gun I walk with a swagger like I always had money 'Cause I know, they rather see my black a** bummy Ain't nuthin' funny just a whole lotta anger Mind of a leader, drama of a gang banger If a n**** come on property I ain't gonna call There'll be a splatter on ya shirt and it ain't paint ball We ain't got s*** to live for You either headed for the pen Or you're on your way to Gilmore In the middle of the real war 'Cause a five dollar bill is the s*** n****s kill for I make a million out, yeah I don't care about a muthaf***a out there My heart cold and my wrist rock And I f*** around and die over Hip Hop I don't follow no rules I'm gettin' in here with the t*** And if I don't, we gonn' burn this muthaf***a down I'm comin' through swingin' like they do in H-Town And I roll down the window and spin ya b**** face around I'm a stunna, hoggin' up the lane like the Hummer Till the wheel run dry like the rain in the summer Even the broke n**** can't afford to go to sleep F*** around and get ya head p****** all over the street And I ain't got nuthin' for 'em but the heat My lil' brother want jewelry and Jordan's on his feet Now, they recognize if ya slaughterin' the beat And if it wasn't for rappin', I'd have ya daughter on the street I been the same since Kane and Slick Rick had it Now n****s die in the car, my whole whip had it I worked too hard to let a n**** have it So I pack the A******** for the sideline static, yeah We ain't got s*** to live for You either headed for the pen Or you're on your way to Gilmore In the middle of the real war 'Cause a five dollar bill is the s*** n****s kill for I make a million out, yeah I don't care about a muthaf***a out there My heart cold and my wrist rock And I f*** around and die over Hip Hop |
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