Lyrics:
dip what I done topped
To 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
G-Unit, mothafucker, we ballin'
Catch me count cheese and when I'm callin', can you accept my call?
C.O. let me sip on Hennessey, "Can I sip some more?"
a black Bimmer
But my dream's to own a fly casino
Like Bugsy Siegel, and do it all legal
And get scooped up by the little homie in the Regal, uh
It
ya box in the mud
Get ya glocks in ya gloves
Ride drops on dubs
We gon' live by that
Make the snitches catch a cut
Soldier pistol nigga what
Hit
like Twizzlers
Biggie's fitting to hurt
What's under that skirt?
(Slow down son you're killin' us)
Who fillin' 'em with octane?
Got 'em gassed up
paid, blow up like the World Trade
Born sinner, the opposite of a winner
Remember when I used to eat sardines for dinner
Peace to Ron G, Brucie B, Kid
replacement, nah
I borrowed his gunits to walk through the matrix
I'm signed to the Doctor I ain't got no patience
So he put me with 50 Cent now I got a face
Okay-kay-kay-kay
G's up
Lil Scrappy
I got money
BME, (BME), money in the bank
G-Unit!
I got money in the bank (yea)
Shawty, what you drank?
wanna fuck, I don't wanna know what's on your mind
Infamous up in this, you know how we get down
Is that yo' hoe? She feelin' our style
We come through
black dick up in the booty
I like it muddy or swampy
By now you find your ass up shitty creeky
Don't got no fuckin' room me and my momma and my TV
have no mercy
when I catch them, (g-unit)they ass is done,
lord forgive me for my sins, cause her I come (50 sent me that's who),
y'all really think
fifty niggas in the wrong clan
You fuckin' bitch you better take
You snitch ass home
Is up feel his chrome on your damn dome
Boom boom boom niggas better
bitch?)
Work that pussy, bitch (y'all fucking one minute, little dick motherfuckers, what?)
(That nasty, dirty pussy you got, you fucking bitch)
Shut up
dick to blow up the pussy for the rest of the night
Then I return with more lyrics like a bunch of rough niggas
They tough niggas that snuff niggas
I got a feeling nigga really that my money be the root
Look up at the stars she like honey where the roof?
Pull up hear the dogs canaries they goin
the mag
Rap niggas hate me, R&B niggas mad, uh
I'm in that 50 Cent, G-Unit bag (ha)
Goons put the work in free if I ask
Make a G call, had three niggas
Never been a harder rhymer in my region globaly that's holdin' me I'm totaly hard and bossed up
Why you think the majority of the rap musical authority
Bandanna on like I'm Pac
Talking fly shit like B.I.G.
Parked six figures in the lot
Got four more at the crib
My unit g's like 50
MDMG Committee
pics
Baby in the VIP with lots of chicks
I'm pimped out now, low cut, and a pick
G and Big Tymers together, that's what I'm talkin'
Have you ever
I'm the truth, and that's what they afraid of
In the Caribbean somewhere laid up
On the phone with my nigga
Tell him, "Press 'em 'til they paid up
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
they get is 50 cent franks
And papayas, from the village to the tele
Time to kill it on your belly no question
I got more black chicks between my
Okay-kay-kay-kay
G's up
Lil Scrappy
I got money
BME, (BME), money in the bank
G-Unit!
I got money in the bank (yea)
Shawty, what you drank?
the flo' - You ain't know?
(I can take you higher)
It's the motherfuckin chronic nigga that's whassup - roll that blunt
(I can take you higher)
G-Unit
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