Lyrics:
and the baby's on guard
Grandma sell food stamps no job like you can't
Auntie got low rent her crib summer camp
Papi juice fifty cent that's way back g-unit
She
her like Bowser
She grained the wood left her with splinters
Like it's Turtle Power
My team a unit full of G's in da club 50 Cent
Like a canine (Kanan)
At 3:47, more than one hundred and fifty rounds of ammunition
Were fired into your apartment
Which was about two hundred yards away
A few moments
(Now)
G-Unit nigga's is runnin' this shit (Now)
If you ain't reppin where you from-Sit Down!
[Verse - Lloyd Banks]
By now I know you done seen me
with your bitch we hit a quickie
(Oh, oh)
I got the crowd jumping, no hippie, bitch
I'm holding 50 (Oh, yeah)
Yeah, we ain't eating out, but
I got this
I was born bleeding
Rotten spam we'll mark ham like York Region
This the documentary on how we do it
The game's making fifty cents to fifty g's for my
We hit the road and ran it up
Real bareback soldier
Mix the Bape with Valentin'
(Mix the Bape with Valentin')
Gang unit picking up shell
Casings
turn the key over
Pirellis on the street rolling like a steam roller
Bitches double team when I have my sleep overs
Yeah, Re-Up gang with the G-Unit
Everybody say ah, ah
Yeah, its 50 cent
and Lloyd Banks
and Young Buck
Yeah, and Joe
G-Unit!
everybody say (la la la la la la la la la la la la)
rock
the shotties
Lawyer so good paid a fine for a body
Heroin and B-more, crib by the seashore
Car service to the G4 Fila Velour
Piff rolled in the dutch
Music kick back, gruesome
Watch out for Judas, Vice and G Unit
5-0 fucking with the yayo too
L-B-P-D get sprayed on too
Always keep it GC, ask my
Shots to his chest Fifty Cent like its Many Men
Yeah, Fifty Cent like it's many men
I been getting to the bag I won't stop now
Just like Kyle Lowry you
Remix,
We gotta lotta money,
Come on we didn't have to hurt em' like
Dis 50, well anyway, g-unit!
I got money in the bank (yea)
Shawty what
a lil jit fifty cent cakes and all pennies
And yeah you know we winnin'
We follow Jesus and steppa trending, yeah
Transportin' ki's in the all black Camero
50 G's on the seat, layin' next to my heat
I'm a Hot Boy to the police
And I'm a thug on the street
Yeah I score
not my bro please get this nigga out my face
Ridin by my lonely lately I ain't feelin safe
Niggas claimin that they know me but they don't know what it
shots, they calling popo
Eat his food, he get a buck and a fifty
Either that or it’s G-Unit, he get Buck’d with the 50
Brooklyn nigga on some Cali shit,
trying
With 50 cent in my pocket, I started moving like the Mayans
My first album was pay attention, now I got them singles
mixing Fake Friends, High
start over
So we gonna act like I ain't
Been that nigga for 8 years
And I'm a new nigga! Call me Ferrari! G-UNIT!
(Tre is that a band?)
Im finna get out the hood
Just to come back in some new shit
They say Im misunderstood
Give a fuck about ya two cents
I see
Then you'll bump heads wit me
I'll put a hole in yo ass, you'll see
That it ain't cool to fuck wit me
G-Unit, I roll wit gorillas
Fuck a big body guard
to lose
My shoes will explode, soon as you go to step in 'em (yeah)
You know how we do it, when we do, how we do it, when we come through
G-Unit, D12
in the club but she don't wanna dance
Oh no no no they say that bands make her dance
Oh no no no this is that no money dance
My unit is G like 50 (50
aus`m Benz aus, dreh 50 Cent auf
(G-Unit) und der Bass ist auf endlaut
Penthouse - mit Ausblick auf`s Meer
Sag wer, sagt das Leben sei nicht fair? (Yeah)
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