Lyrics:
to leave my city, just like Fifty
With my Unit, I'm a die a fucking G, usezo gcwala, aye
Die for the kids, shwela bana
Die for the kids, shwela bana
Die for
you ain't gonna be perfect just try to keep up the rules
Yea that G- code G-code G.O.D code
That's God over dollars that money..
My spirit you can't
G-G-G-G-G Unit
I’m that nigga, I’m the plug i’m that nigga
I just came up on fifty pounds of bud
I’m that nigga so I pack heat
In case you niggas
[Lloyd Banks]
I need the cake nigga
G-Unit dont play
we rap but we strapped
Buck got the shotgun
50 got the mack
Spida got the streeper
and u bound
wind up on the news, now watch the hook drop
I'm a G-Unit nigga, that means I don't play by the rules
But I could make you move
Buy a quarter mil
Hunnits as they call me, man, the king of San Diego, you know what I'm talkin' about
Lincoln Park Clack Unit ah ah ah and all that
Yeah
Aye, look, see
the mouth of the nigga you used to know as being 50's dog
But I got tired of being 50's dog
Had to break my chain and cut that nigga 50 off
Whole team
I take 50's call"
Hello? Put up 10 mill for a real nigga
Drop this joint album and we'll kill niggas
G-Unit!
Who the fuck scared now?
Look who
[50 Cent:]
Yeeh...
I'm'a Soldier, I Done Told Ya, Don't Make Me Fuck You Up
Leave You Head Bust, I'm'a Head Busta, Man I Don't Give A Fuck
I'm'a
bought a Birkin, hope you like it (Birkin)
I beat that shit up (beat it)
Uppercut, Tyson (woo)
Pop it and she clappin', goin' crazy by the night (clap)
So crispy
Stuck in '06 been bumping old 50
Tryina throw my whole unit G's until my roll is empty
Let em know I'm bout to blow on all my goals I'm going
dirty thoughts those took the back seat
All i wanted was 50 cents, to buy some sweets
I didn't what my folks did so i can eat
Bullies never got to me i
love it
From Washington to Franklin whether grinding or ganking
Getting money gives a sensation that leaves me captivated
Fascinated by the thought
cent G-unit
Who Kid
So listen up and
Tune in
For that old original raw shit, it's authentic
Want more, bet it's off limits
Staring at me with that face
those years
Nigga, Eminem, Paul Rosenberg, Riggs Morales
I wanna thank all my label mates, D12, 50 Cent, G-Unit
Stat Quo, Bobby Creek' and Cashis
It's
got C.O.'s bringin' me filet mignon
But now a nigga home, looking frail in a drop (what else?)
With a bitch shotgun that's inhaling the cock
I got
sales and tunnel bangers
'Cuz that's how shit be, what's up wit' that
The Rah D I G, yo what's up wit' that
I'm writin' rhymes lovely, what's up wit'
I'm rich, bitch!
Okay kay kay kay (ready), G's up, Lil' Scrappy
I got money
BME (BME), money in the bank, G-Unit!
I got money in the bank (yea)
pray for x zibit
I pray for nas
I pray for wayne
I pray fat joe
I wanna make you move
Where is this real Niggas
I pray ice cube, nwa
50cent g unit, was
is the voice behind the flavor unit, all time, all early
It's that girlie, head of the head called her Shirley
And what poop last but not least,
bandana)
Yeah mother fuckers
Chuck Taylor
O you thought I forgot about that alias huh
Im going back to my roots
G-unit is dead
As a staff, a record
Future Hendrix
Rockstar life
(Mally Mall)
Everythin' that glitters ain't gold (no)
I'm holdin' onto what's left of my soul (my soul)
Either
on the island
(Maybach Music), y'all niggas want trouble?
I run up on that C.O. snap his ass in a bubble
[Chorus: 50 Cent]
I'll, I'll be the shooter, I'll,
Demark, the motorcade is coming by here, (oh,
No) just heard a call on the radio for all units along Industrial (oh, no)
To pick up the motorcade,
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