Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Unit - I'M So Hood. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Unit - I'M So Hood. Sort by date Show all posts

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Unit - I'M So Hood - Lyrics - Beg For Mercy - G

Title: Unit - I'M So Hood
Album: Beg For Mercy
Artist: G
Composer(s): Raymond Grant, Curtis Jackson, Richard Grant

Lyric:
Yeah, yeah, yeah

Lil' Tyrone tired of gettin' his ass whipped, so he holdin' that get down
His momma think it's my fault, 'cause he listened to 'Back Down'
Bobby was a fuckin' bum, he pumpin' backs now
He need some fresh chicks, white T's and fitted hats now
Uncle Rock a wino, he won't put the 'gnac down
Eric had the jump shop, but he's smokin' crack now
The Lunatics, the Lost Boyz, Cheeks shit is whack now
Country blew trial, them crackers got him on his back now
And Sean, runnin' round with his fuckin' get now
Up in niggaz cribs, sayin' where that money at pal?
Now Sandra from BK I seen her out in Houston
That bitch travelled the world, she runnin' round boostin'
Now Toya got these bad-ass kids, they a nuisance
Her baby daddies never come around, they useless
Every now and then I come through on some new shit
Pearly white six or some chrome deuce-deuces

I'm so hood, I can't help it
I'm so hood, I can't help it
Love me for bein' me, 'cause I can't change it
Can't rearrange it, I am what I am
So love me for bein' me

I'm so hood, I can't help it
I'm so hood, I can't help it
Love me for bein' me, 'cause I can't change it
Can't rearrange it, I am what I am
So love me for bein' me

When I was six man, momma told me god don't like ugly
I fell, scraped my face, and thought god must don't love me
Saw Owen every mornin' before school, he sell dope
Niggaz keep whuppin' nut ass 'cause he sell soap
Charlie be beggin' all the time, he stay broke
Flip be down on one O nine, rollin' up smoke
Shameek, he a thief, catch a stunt in a stolen car
He that nigga that you call when you crashin' into a bar
See they love me 'cause I rap now, but they don't like me
I been locked up three times and they ain't write
Stevie a punk, but fuck what he say, he can get mean quick
Pop shots at you, Esau must suck a mean dick
The block's hot, D's jump out on us almost all the time
They watch us from the buildin' but niggaz still be on the grind
Wayne used to call the cops and tell them G had a nine
'Til G put that gun in Donrad seat and said it wasn't mine

I'm so hood, I can't help it
I'm so hood, I can't help it
Love me for bein' me, 'cause I can't change it
Can't rearrange it, I am what I am
So love me for bein' me

I'm so hood, I can't help it
I'm so hood, I can't help it
Love me for bein' me, 'cause I can't change it
Can't rearrange it, I am what I am
So love me for bein' me

Play the MP3 online for free!
fe729e92bba0137ea2a533b31e681608

Thursday, August 12, 2010

8 Mile Road (G-Unit Remix) - Lyrics - The New Breed - 50 Cent

Title: 8 Mile Road (G-Unit Remix)
Album: The New Breed
Artist: 50 Cent
Composer(s): Curtis Jackson, Christopher Lloyd, Marshall Mathers, Marvin Bernard

Lyric:
Yeah, 50 Cent, Lloyd Banks, Tony Yayo
G-Unit

This rap shit plays a major part of my life
So if you jeapordize it I got the right
To send a mothafucka at you tonight
G-Unit, and I ain't stoppin' to my clique poppin'

Swimmin' in barrels of money
Ma could walk around wit' a head up
And challenge you dummy
It's funny, niggaz rather see you sufferin' and hungry

I'm hungry as hell, skatin' with another nigga's money
You lyin' your ass off, you know you ain't that tough
I'm pullin' your mask off as soon as you act up
You know what I came for, it isn't the game ball

Artillary that's about as long as a chainsaw
(Lloyd Banks)
I'm wide awake, but it still feels like I'm dreamin'
Forty Cal under my pillow, condom feelin' my semen

The physical presence of a female, form of a demon
That's why, I fuck 'em and leave 'em
Get my nut while I'm breathin'
'Cause they thought they'd catch me slippin'

Now I'm duckin' and trippin'
That's a thousand dollar outfit what the fuck is you rippin'?
You trippin', more records could get my ass in position
Death wish for no religion whether Catholic or Christian

Listen, I went through, mama bitchin' in and out the kitchen
With probable cause, papa was in and out of prison
You got soldiers, but you still gotta respect ours
We got more four five's and nines than a deck of cards

You can take me out the 'hood, but can't take the 'hood out me
('Cause what?)
'Cause I'm ghetto, I'm ghetto
Niggaz hate when you do good

But when you broke, your friends and your enemies
They love you, they love you
"Chi Chi, get the llello"
Picture me being crack, out of town, trips on the trail

"Chi Chi, get the llello"
Picture me being crack
(Tony Yayo)
You can sift me, cut me, I'll turn you to a junkie
I'm the number one seller in the whole fuckin' country

Wallstreet niggaz, they cop me on the low
White boys don't call me coke, they call me blow
It's time to go, on the bus, the train, the plane
I'll smuggle, I'm nothin' but trouble

I'll make your money double
Cook me in baking soda
I'll turn your Hooprock into a new Range Rover
I'll pay all your bills and fill your 'frigerator

Feed your family, turn your man to a hater
Put me in your doorpanels or your stashbox
Put me in your Nik's, Timbs or Reeboks
If you cop three and a half you hustlin' backwards

Cop a hundred grams
You movin' forwards
You tryin' to move more birds
In PA all day, on the corner of Third

You can take me out the 'hood
But can't take the 'hood out me
(What?)
'Cause I'm ghetto, I'm ghetto
Picture me polishin' pistols, I'm comin' to get you

The shells hit you, you screamin'
Think I'm playin'? I mean it
Man, I done bought all these pistols
Let's get it poppin'

Start wavin' my emboies shell cases get the droppin'
(C'mon)
Like if it's down the corner, I got too much pride to hide
I'm outside, gun in my pocket just stunnin', I'm stoppin'
I'm dyin' to pop it, I'm young and I'm restless

You know my contestants
As the world turns, there's lessons to be learned
Count all my blessin's, clean up my weapons
I'm ready for war, the strong survive, the weak will parish

I told you before, hoes they compliment me now like "50 nice chain"
Belagio, twenty grand in chips at a dice game
Burn out, can't stop gotta watch MTV, BET
Nigga you see me

I wonder if you mad, 'cause I'm doin' good
Or 'cause niggaz feelin' me more than you in your own 'hood
And it hurts 'cause you love 'em and they don't love you back
'Cause they know you just rappin' and you don't bust a gat

You pussy, yeah, explain it to niggaz in your hood nigga
They know you fuckin' frontin' nigga
Talkin' like gangstas on a record, I see you nigga
Niggaz know me nigga, ask around in my 'hood nigga

Read the "Daily News" nigga
You see them talkin' about me nigga
I'm in the middle of all kinds of shit
Pussy, let's get it poppin'

G-G-Unit, G-G-Unit, G-G-G-Unit
G-G-G-Unit, G-Unit

Play the MP3 online for free!
11c5cd9d9db6a2e2f049f250e3abd59d

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Don'T Push Me - Lyrics - Get Rich Or Die Tryin' - 50 Cent

Title: Don'T Push Me
Album: Get Rich Or Die Tryin'
Artist: 50 Cent
Composer(s): F Perren, Curtis Jackson, Christopher Lloyd, L Resto

Lyric:
I need you to pray for me and
I need you to care for me and
I need you to want me to win
I need to know where I'm heading 'cause I know where I've been
Flows, bones, crushing it's nothing
I come up with something
Come through your strip, fronting, stunting
It's something you want, 745 chrome spinning
Haters hate that I'm winning

Man I've been hot from the beginning
Motherfuckers aim at the kid, control your jealousy
'Cause I can't control my temper, I'm fitting to catch a felony
Pistol in hand homie, I'm down to get it popping
Once I squeeze the first shot
No I ain't stopping till my clip is empty
I'm simply not that nigga you should try your luck with
Fuck with, hollow-tip shells struck with your bones broke
Gun smoking, still locing, what nigga
Lay your ass down paramedics get you up feeling

Right now I'm on the edge
So don't push me
I aim straight for your head
So don't push me
Fill your ass up with lead
So don't push me
I got something for your ass, keep thinking I'm pussy

Right now I'm on the edge
So don't push me
I aim straight for your head
So don't push me
Fill your ass up with lead
So don't push me
I got something for your ass, keep thinking I'm pussy

I cross my bigger nigga and I didn't cry
To young to understand, the consequences of man
Living a lie, I gotta get that money
I'll be damned if If I'm bummy
Gotta watch my back around these niggas
'Cause they fronting twenty years
Of watching my Mama's tears
Got me heated, heavily weeded

Smoking that bomb 'cause I need it
These niggas don't want me balling, they want me bury
Thrown in the dirt, from shots flurry
Laying with bugs under my shirt
I got plans to hop up in that Hummer
'Cause I'mma stunner, I sit back and wonder
When them angels gon' call my number
Under, my chest is a heart of a lion

I ain't lying, bounty hunters got me flying
With my iron, high as a giant
I'm running from nothing, my stomach is touching
What I'm clutching, to give you more then a concussion
End of discussion
My blood is colder, so I'm bolder
And it's either soda
Hood on my my shoulder
Looking in the mirror, I see a soldier

Right now I'm on the edge
So don't push me
I aim straight for your head
So don't push me
Fill your ass up with lead
So don't push me
I got something for your ass, keep thinking I'm pussy

Right now I'm on the edge
So don't push me
I aim straight for your head
So don't push me
Fill your ass up with lead
So don't push me
I got something for your ass, keep thinking I'm pussy

These are my ideas, this is my sweat and tears
This is shit that I solved with my balls, my ears
This is me who's gotta be, what you see on TV
What you hear on C.D., what appears easy
Man these teenie boppers see me on these magazine covers
In these beanies and these rags, living fantasies
Fronting like it's all fun and games
Till they shoot 'em up bang

Then you see brains hang and you see we ain't playing
Ain't saying we ain't laying down at night and ain't praying
I bully my way in this game, man I'm done playing
Man I'm done saying that I'm done playing
I'mma start laying any of these motherfucking cocksuckers
There's no way I'mma back down, like a goddamn coward
I can't, how would I look as man bowing to his knees
Like the mad cow disease, let somebody lash out at me
And not lash back out at 'em, please

Oh, whoa, yo, ho, hold up, oh no, not me
Not Marshall, you wanna see Marshall?
I'll show you Marshall, I try to show you art
Put you just pick it apart, so I see I have to start
Showing you fuckin' old farts a whole other side
I wanted to not show you, so you know you're not dealing with
Some fuckin' marshmallow, little soft yellow
Punk pussy, who's heart's Jello, 'cause

Right now I'm on the edge
So don't push me
I aim straight for your head
So don't push me
Fill your ass up with lead
So don't push me
I got something for your ass, keep thinking I'm pussy

Right now I'm on the edge
So don't push me
I aim straight for your head
So don't push me
Fill your ass up with lead
So don't push me
I got something for your ass, keep thinking I'm pussy

Shady aftermath nigga, G-Unit
Rap juggernauts of this shit, we takin' over

Play the MP3 online for free!
2d94b4260c5cb6b0f20ba6201e623abf

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

High All The Time - Lyrics - Get Rich Or Die Tryin' - 50 Cent

Title: High All The Time
Album: Get Rich Or Die Tryin'
Artist: 50 Cent
Composer(s): Homer Banks, Carl M Hampton, Curtis Jackson, Marshall Mathers, Raymond Jackson, C Almonacy, M Clervoix, L Resto

Lyric:
I don't need Dom Perignon, I don't need Cris
Tanqueray and Alize, I don't need shit
Nigga, I'm high all the time, I smoke that good shit
I stay high all the time, man I'm on some hood shit

Give me some dro, purple haze and some chocolate
Give me a dutch and a lighter, I'll spark shit
And stay high all the time, I smoke that good shit
I'm high all the time, man I'm on some hood shit

Everytime I roll up, niggas holla roll up and I tell 'em hold up
You ain't gettin' money, you ain't smoking
In my Benzo, 20 inch Lorenzos, smoking on indo
High as a motherfucker
I be on them backstreets, niggas know I clap heat
Only if you got beef, man you better holla at me
Niggas get locked up, stabbed up, shot up
Everytime I pop up, a lot going on in my hood

I shoot the dice, I holler get 'em girls
Daddy need new shoes, daddy need Perelli's
They look mean on 22's
Stash box, Xbox, laptop, fax machine, phone
Bulletproof this bitch and I'm gone
2003 Suburban swerving, too many sips of Henny
The D's sick, they searched the whip and they can't find the semis
They was just harassing me 'cause they know who I was
Spent the night in Central Booking for smoking some bud

I don't need Dom Perignon, I don't need Cris
Tanqueray and Alize, I don't need shit
Nigga, I'm high all the time, I smoke that good shit
I stay high all the time, man I'm on some hood shit

Give me some dro, purple haze and some chocolate
Give me a dutch and a lighter, I'll spark shit
And stay high all the time, I smoke that good shit
I'm high all the time, man I'm on some hood shit

Now if you heard I done started some shit
It ain't because I be high, I be high, I be high
And if you heard I done let off a clip
It ain't because I be high, I be high, I be high
But I- twist that la, la, la, la

I get high as I wanna nigga
Go against me, fa sho, you's a goner nigga
I don't smoke to calm my nerves but I got beef
Finna crush my enemies like I crush the hashish
If you love me, tell me you love me, don't stare at me man
I'd hate to be in the Benz clapping one of my fans

Let me show you how to greet me
When you meet me, when you see me
If you real my nigga, you know how to holla 'G-Unit'
There's no competition, it's just me
50 Cent, motherfucker, I'm hot on these streets
If David could go against, Goliath with a stone
I can go at Nas and Jigga, both for the throne

I don't need Dom Perignon, I don't need Cris
Tanqueray and Alize, I don't need shit
Nigga, I'm high all the time, I smoke that good shit
I stay high all the time, man I'm on some hood shit

Give me some dro, purple haze and some chocolate
Give me a dutch and a lighter, I'll spark shit
And stay high all the time, I smoke that good shit
I'm high all the time, man I'm on some hood shit

Now who you know besides me who write lines and squeeze nines
And have hoes in the hood sniffin' on white lines
You don't want me to be your kid's role model
I'll teach them how to buck them 380's and load up them hollows
Have shorty fresh off the stoop, ready to shoot
Big blunt in his mouth, deuce deuce in his boot
Sit in the crib, sippin' Guinness, watching Menace
Then Oh Lord, have a young nigga bucking shit like he O-Dog

My team, they depend on me when it's crunch time
I eat a nigga food in broad day like it's lunchtime
You feeling brave nigga, go ahead get gully
See if I won't leave your brains leaking up out your skully
I done made myself hot, so ain't shit you can tell me
Now niggas calling me to feature, man fuck your money
I ain't hurting, am I, nigga, I'm doing good
I ain't got to write rhymes, I got bricks in the hood

I don't need Dom Perignon, I don't need Cris
Tanqueray and Alize, I don't need shit
Nigga, I'm high all the time, I smoke that good shit
I stay high all the time, man I'm on some hood shit

Give me some dro, purple haze and some chocolate
Give me a dutch and a lighter, I'll spark shit
And stay high all the time, I smoke that good shit
I'm high all the time, man I'm on some hood shit

G-Unit, are you ready?
G-Unit, are you ready?
G-Unit, are you ready?

Nigga, ready or not
Here I come, come, come

Play the MP3 online for free!
8157ce06d6ea35eda3340bea8f9ac9b7

Monday, August 2, 2010

Money Good - Lyrics - Buck Tha World - Young Buck

Title: Money Good
Album: Buck Tha World
Artist: Young Buck
Composer(s): David Brown, Lamarquis Jefferson, Craig Love, L Nix, Jonathan H Smith

Lyric:
G-Unit
Aiyyo, if you got more than a hundred dollars in your pocket
Aiyyo, make some noise in this ****
'Cause I'm gettin' money like a ****, y'all

Work for the money, money, do ya thang now
Work for the money, money, put it down now
Work for the money, money, do ya thang now
Work for the money, money, put it down now

Work for the money, money, do ya thang now
Work for the money, money, put it down now
Work for the money, money, do ya thang now
Work for the money, money, put it down now

26's got me big, big wheelin'
Money over ****, I'ma get me a million
Thangs done changed, I'm hotter than a flame
So it's no time for me to beef with Jada, Joe or Game

Diamonds in my chain, a Chevy in my yard
And a baby blue Phantom that I keep in the garage
Come here, let me talk to you, show you what my grill 'bout
Ice like Paul Wall but I can't take mine out

Let's play the game 'Big bank take lil' bank'
Flood it like Katrina, make sure that your ship sank
You would think money's growin' on trees
The way your boy run through a couple hundred G's

Fresh white tee 'bout to get my hustle on
I ain't goin' to the club till all my work gone
I'm leanin' on the leather and grippin' on the wood
And I can build whatever, you know my money good, yeah

I can get money, I be in the hood
I be stackin' paper like a real **** should
My money good, we ballin' in the hood
Money good, we ballin' in the hood

I be pimpin' hard and I got them ****
You ain't gotta ask me, you already know
My money good, we ballin' in the hood
Money good, we ballin' in the hood

I got my mind on my money, my money on my mind
I'm good in the hood so you know I'm gon' shine
Get you some, get you some, get you some, get you some
Get you some, get you some, get you some, get you some

I'm sellin' everythang and savin' every dime
I'm good in the hood so you know I'm gon' shine
Get you some, get you some, get you some, get you some
Get you some, get you some, get you some, get you some

Fifty for the watch, a hundred for the bracelet
I'm headed to the top, I can damn near taste it
I represent my block and give away the ones
The hustle never stops, so my job is never done

So tell me what it costs and show me who the boss
Put your money where your mouth is, I'ma break him off
If you wanna know the reason why I act like that
I can fit a half a mil' in this Louie backpack, yeah

I can get money, I be in the hood
I be stackin' paper like a real **** should
My money good, we ballin' in the hood
Money good, we ballin' in the hood

I be pimpin' hard and I got them ****
You ain't gotta ask me, you already know
My money good, we ballin' in the hood
Money good, we ballin' in the hood

Go and do your thang, just don't get caught
Let your money talk, I let my money talk for me
If shorty wanna hate, then tell the **** to walk
Let your money talk, I let my money talk for me

Call me what you want but you can't call me broke
'Cause gettin' big bags of money's all we know
Marble floors in the projects, ghetto millionaire
All this Gucci in my closet, I don't know what to wear

Bentley outside by the ice cream truck
Just ride through the hood, ask 'em if they seen Buck
Thought I wouldn't make it but look at me now
That's why I painted the Benz the same color as Cristal

I can get money, I be in the hood
I be stackin' paper like a real **** should
My money good, we ballin' in the hood
Money good, we ballin' in the hood

I be pimpin' hard and I got them ****
You ain't gotta ask me, you already know
My money good, we ballin' in the hood
Money good, we ballin' in the hood

Get money, hey, get money
Get money, hey, get money

Play the MP3 online for free!
bf1ffdd795af0bab111a152f6f657ddc

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Hate It Or Love It (G Unit Remix) - Lyrics - Massacre - 50 Cent

Title: Hate It Or Love It (G Unit Remix)
Album: Massacre
Artist: 50 Cent
Composer(s): C Jackson, M Valenzano, Harris A Lyon, J Taylor, Baker Felde

Lyric:
Yeah, let's take 'em back
Uh-huh

Comin' up I was confused, my mommy kissin' a girl
Confusion occurs, comin' up in the cold world
Daddy ain't around, probably out committin' felonies
My favorite rapper used to sing, "Check, check out 'My Melody'"

I wanna live good, so shit I sell dope
For a four finger ring, one of them gold ropes
Nana told me if I passed I'd get a sheepskin coat
If I can move a few packs I'd get the hat, now that'd be dope

Tossed and turned in my sleep that night
Woke up the next mornin', niggaz had stolen my bike
Different day, same shit, ain't nothin' good in the hood
I'd run away from this bitch and never come back if I could

Hate it or love it, the underdog's on top
And I'm gon' shine homey until my heart stop
Go 'head envy me, I'm rap's MVP
And I ain't goin' nowhere, so you can get to know me

Hate it or love it, the underdog's on top
And I'm gon' shine homey until my heart stop
Go 'head envy me, I'm rap's MVP
And I ain't goin' nowhere, so you can get to know me

I told Dre from the gate "I'd carry the heat for ya"
First mixtape song I inherited beef for ya
Gritted my teeth for ya, G-G-G-G for ya
Put Compton on my back when you in need of soldiers

At my last show I threw away my N.W.A. gold
I had the whole crowd yellin', "Free Yayo"
So niggaz better get up outta mine
For I creep and turn your projects into Columbine

And I'm rap's MVP
Don't make me remind y'all what happened in D.C.
This nigga ain't Gotti, he pretend
Mad at us 'cause Ashanti got a new boyfriend

And it seems your lil' rat turned out to be a mouse
This beef shit is for the birds and the birds fly South
Even Young Buck can vouch, when the doubts was out
Who gave the West coast mouth-to-mouth?

Hate it or love it, the underdog's on top
And I'm gon' shine homey until my heart stop
Go 'head envy me, I'm rap's MVP
And I ain't goin' nowhere, so you can get to know me

Hate it or love it, the underdog's on top
And I'm gon' shine homey until my heart stop
Go 'head envy me, I'm rap's MVP
And I ain't goin' nowhere, so you can get to know me

From the beginnin' to the end, losers lose, winners win
This is real we ain't got to pretend
The cold world that we in is full of pressure and pain
I thought it would change it's stayin' the same

How many of them boys is witcha'?
When you had that little TV, you had to hit on to get a picture
I'm walking with a snub, 'cause niggaz do a lot of slick talkin'
In the club 'til they coughin' on the rug
Ain't never had much but a Walkman and a bud

My role model is gone snortin' up his drug
Bad enough they want me to choke
My boy just got poked in the throat
Now it's an Auggie shirt and my coat

Now I'm speedin', reminiscin', holdin' my weed in
Never listen if I see him I'ma lift 'em
And maybe that'll even the score
But if not, it'll be me on the floor

Hate it or love it, the underdog's on top
And I'm gon' shine homey until my heart stop
Go 'head envy me, I'm rap's MVP
And I ain't goin' nowhere, so you can get to know me

Hate it or love it, the underdog's on top
And I'm gon' shine homey until my heart stop
Go 'head envy me, I'm rap's MVP
And I ain't goin' nowhere, so you can get to know me

I started out at 15, scared as hell
I took 30 off a pack and made them sales
As a youth, man I used to hustle for loot
With that lil' deuce-deuce and my triple fat goose

Sippin, 'Easy Jesus', rockin' a leases
My momma wit me when she found my pieces
I look back on life, thank God I'm blessed
We the best on the planet so forget the rest

You know I'm still nice with my cook game
Look man, it's a hood thang that's why I'm loved in Brooklyn
I handle mine just like a real nigga should
If I do some time homey, I'm still all good

Let me show you what a thug 'bout I'm born to die
I took the bullets outta 50 put 'em in my fo'-five
And I ain't even got my feet wet yet
A seven figure nigga who ain't seen a royalty check

Hate it or love it, the underdog's on top
And I'm gon' shine homey until my heart stop
Go 'head envy me, I'm rap's MVP
And I ain't goin' nowhere, so you can get to know me

Hate it or love it, the underdog's on top
And I'm gon' shine homey until my heart stop
Go 'head envy me, I'm rap's MVP
And I ain't goin' nowhere, so you can get to know me

Play the MP3 online for free!
55d0b665e8741a7cd7daf6aad51b9c65

Sunday, August 1, 2010

This Is How We Do - Lyrics - 50 Cent

Title: This Is How We Do
Artist: 50 Cent
Composer(s): Russell Deyo, Michael Elizondo, Duane Hughes, Curtis Jackson, Vaughan Carrington Mason, Jayceon Taylor, Andre Young

Lyric:
This is how we do
We make a move and act a fool
While we up in the club
This is how we do
Nobody do it like we do it
So show us some love

Fresh like, uhh, Impala, unnh
Crome hyrdolics, 808 drums
You don't want, none, nigga betta, run
When beef is on, I'll pop that, drum

Come get, some, pistol grip, pump
If a nigga steps on my white Air, Ones
Since red, rum, ready here I, come
Compton, unh, Dre found me in the, slums

Sellin' that skunk, one hand on my gun
I was sellin' rocks when Master P was sayin', "Unnh"
Buck pass tha blunt
These G-Unit girls just wanna have, fun

Coke and rum, got weed on the ton
I'm bangin' with my hand up her dress like, unh
I'll make her cum, purple haze in my lungs
Whole gang in the front in case a nigga pull a stunt

I put Lamborghini doors on that Es-co-lade
Low pro so look like I'm riding on blades
In one year mang, a nigga's so paid
I have a straight bitch in the telly goin' both ways
(Ah)

Touch me, tease me, kiss me, please me
I give it to ya just how you like it, girl
You know I'm rockin' with the best tre pound on my hip
Teflon on my chest, they say I'm no good 'cuz I'm so hood

Rich folks do not want me around
'Cuz shit might pop off and if shit pop off
Somebody gon' get laid the fuck out

They call me new money, say I have no class
I'm from the bottom, I came up too fast
The hell if I care, I'm just here to get my cash
Bougie ass bitches, you can kiss my ass

This is how we do
We make a move and act a fool
While we up in the club
This is how we do
Nobody do it like we do it
So show us some love

I put gold Daytonas on that Cherry Six-Four
White walls so clean it's like I'm ridin' on bulbs
Hit one switch mang, that ass so low
Cali got niggaz in New York ridin' on hundred spokes

Touch me, tease me, kiss me, please me
I give it to ya just how you like it, girl
You know I'm rockin' with the best fo' pound on my hip
Gold chain on my chest
(Ah)

50, unh, Bentley, unh
'Em came 'n gotta nigga fresh out the, slum
Automatic, gun, fuck 'em one-on-one
We wrap up ya punk ass, stunt 'n ya done
Homie, it's Game time

You ready? Here I come
Call Lloyd Banks
And get this motherfucker, cunt
It took two, months but 50 got it done

Signed with G-unit
Had niggaz like, "Huh?"
Don't try to front
I'll leave yo' ass slumped
Thinkin' I'm a punk
Get your fuckin' head lumped
Fifty got a gun

Ready here he come, gotta sick, vendetta
To get this, chedda, meet my Ba, Retta
The drama, setta, sip Ama, retta
My flow sounds, betta than average

On tracks I'm a savage, I damage
Any nigga tryin' to front on my clique
(G-Unit)

Jayne B loves youssef R4 Eva 2005

Play the MP3 online for free!
6510d53c4fbf8119924fcf2ca2fac090

Unit - Poppin Dem Thangs - Lyrics - G

Title: Unit - Poppin Dem Thangs
Artist: G
Composer(s): Curtis Jackson, Christopher Lloyd, David Brown, Michael Elizondo, Scott Storch, Andre Young

Lyric:
Every hood we go through
All the gangsters around know my whole crew
We hold it down like we supposed to
Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin' dem thangs

Every hood we go through
All the gangsters around know my whole crew
We hold it down like we supposed to
Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin' dem thangs

After the VMA's my baby momma cussed my ass out
I kicked her ass, we back friends like Puffy and Steve Stoute
Cut the grass around my crib so I could see these snakes
You see 'em back in the hood, it's cause I see they're fake

A preacher's son about the paper like I'm Creflo Dollar
I pop you punk niggaz like I pop my collar
I'm confused, I like Megan, Monica and Mya
Missy's freaky and Brandy's shot up

Now take a look at how my lifestyle changed up
I'm on now, goddamnit, I done came up, what?
Now you can find me with the finest hoes
Choosin' which whip to drive by what match my clothes

I got a fetish for the stones, I'm heavy on the ice, man
If I ain't got a pistol on me, sure I got a knife fam
Get out of line and I'm lightin' yo' ass up
Semi-automatics the way I tighten yo' ass up, what?

Every hood we go through
All the gangsters 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 gangsters around know my whole crew
We hold it down like we supposed to
Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin' dem thangs

Slow down punk nigga, don't exceed your speed
Cause I will put G's on your fitted like the Negro League
I got connects, I don't need no weed
I been in L.A. for a year now, so I don't see no seeds

After I'm done, you clap in a crew
Hell yeah, I fuck fans, guess what, your favorite rapper does too
Yea, in a minute I'ma have the jeweler makin' my rims spin
My crew run wild like the Jamaicans in Kingston

Nuttin' but bling-bling in your face, boy, that's why my neck shine
Like one of the shirts that Puffy and Mase wore
I done found a nympho as soon as I pop a broad
She had my balls, head first like a soccer star

You can only stand next to the man if you proper
That take care of birds like an animal doctor
I been out and buzzin', niggaz just slept on me
So I'm out for revenge like one of Bin Laden cousins

Every hood we go through
All the gangsters around know my whole crew
We hold it down like we supposed to
Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin' dem thangs

Every hood we go through
All the gangsters around know my whole crew
We hold it down like we supposed to
Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin' dem thangs

Read the paper, look at the news, we on the front page
Yeah, we in the Bahamas with AKs on the stage
The ice in the Jacob watch'll make a broke nigga take somethin'
So I gotta keep the fo'-fifth with no safety button

G-Unit get that money, I know some artists is starvin''
But play the game like they rich, to me they shit funny
I know you see me comin' 'cause on the front of the Maybach
It say payback for those that hated on me

I hate when niggaz claim they bangin' or gang
You ain't a Crip like Snoop, you ain't no Blood like Game
See I been havin' beef, I got my own bulletproof vest
Most of my enemies dead, I got about two left

Until my last breath, I'm sendin' niggaz bullet holes
Innocent bystanders get hit tryin' to be heroes
You know how we roll, everywhere that we go
It's fo-fo's, calicos, and desert eagles

Every hood we go through
All the gangsters around know my whole crew
We hold it down like we supposed to
Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin' dem thangs

Every hood we go through
All the gangsters around know my whole crew
We hold it down like we supposed to
Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin' dem thangs

Play the MP3 online for free!
b106712f724a77b86e170d4a24723fd2

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Unit - G'D Up - Lyrics - Beg For Mercy - G

Title: Unit - G'D Up
Album: Beg For Mercy
Artist: G
Composer(s): Curtis Jackson, Christopher Lloyd, David Brown, Michael Elizondo, Scott Storch, Andre Young

Lyric:
Ah, yeah, uh huh

Ain't it amazing how crazy the hood done made me?
Feels like my emotions are froze
I stay G'd up
It's the things I done seen and the shit I been through
That make my heart turn cold
I stay G'd up

I'm a gangsta you find out for sure
If you ever step on my toes
I stay G'd up
When I'm hangin' out that window with that AK
Fillin' your punk ass with holes
I stay G'd up

Cocaine, heroin, ecstasy, marijuana
I'm mule on that Greyhound from N.Y. to the Carolina
Paper chase, different name, same face, don't catch a case
My road dog's on parole his baby girl's four years old
We play the block, pistol cocked, you could shoot or get shot
Kill you for your crack spot take everything your ass got
Semi-automatic spray, bust back or run away
Niggas talkin' in the hood, we'll handle this another day

In November you make my shit list if you did you can cancel Christmas
I'll send you a gift niggas'll come and leave your ass twisted
Them hollow tip shells burn baby burn
See niggas get merked up, babies born and the world turns
I seen it all crystal clear so I keep my pistol near
Heart's never full of fear, homie I stay well aware
Of what's going on around me, motherfuckers want me dead
I go wit a smile on my face when it's my time kid

Ain't it amazing how crazy the hood done made me?
Feels like my emotions are froze
I stay G'd up
It's the things I done seen and the shit I been through
That make my heart turn cold
I stay G'd up

I'm a gangsta you find out for sure
If you ever step on my toes
I stay G'd up
When I'm hangin' out that window with that AK
Fillin' your punk ass with holes

Lil' niggas I done paved the way, y'all should thank 'em
But if you think otherwise bring your boy over here so I can spank 'im
I'll put an end to your career bitch
Before you speak on 50, buy a .40 and a spare clip
These niggas gassed up, gettin' to used to rap
Like I won't give 'em more bloodclots than supercat
Niggas'll snatch ya, I'm like a bat catcher
I'll give a sign and and then throw somethin' at ya

Round here niggas die off hydro
And even when it ain't 4th of July it sound like pyro
You smart enough to creep then lay your dumb brains down
The pound'll spin you around like the young James Brown
Yeah, I know I'm hot but hey, I'm icy too
Rocks'll hit you from a block away like a beat from Dr. Dre
We're takin over this year, K's and the soldiers is here
Everyone knows it's a scare, yeah

Ain't it amazing how crazy the hood done made me?
Feels like my emotions are froze
I stay G'd up
It's the things I done seen and the shit I been through
That make my heart turn cold
I stay G'd up

I'm a gangsta you find out for sure
If you ever step on my toes
I stay G'd up
When I'm hangin' out that window with that AK
Fillin' your punk ass with holes

My Papa never bothered to show me what it 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 homeboy 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 hollerin' and hootin'
Until you wake up and then you got to hear 'bout these shootings

I take a pull from a loose one and put the clip in my pocket
Before I take another bullet I'm gonna pull it and pop it
And if it's beef my nigga, then let your guns do your talkin'
The graveyard has got plenty room for a coffin
They say that we responsible for boostin' the crime rate
They say that we the reason that these young niggas buyin' weight
But I'm gonna keep this glock on my waist 'til my dyin' days
It's nuttin' but a G thang, G-Unit and Dr. Dre

Ain't it amazing how crazy the hood done made me?
Feels like my emotions are froze
I stay G'd up
It's the things I done seen and the shit I been through
That make my heart turn cold
I stay G'd up

I'm a gangsta you find out for sure
If you ever step on my toes
I stay G'd up
When I'm hangin' out that window with that AK
Fillin' your punk ass with holes
I stay G'd up

Play the MP3 online for free!
ca31e60ca38e6de13f35c342337932f7

Unit - Groupie Love - Lyrics - Beg For Mercy - G

Title: Unit - Groupie Love
Album: Beg For Mercy
Artist: G
Composer(s): W Nugent, D, T Means, K Risto, Curtis Jackson, Christopher Lloyd, M Bernard, Al Green

Lyric:
Yeah, G-Unit, yeah

I've been so many places, I've seen so many faces
Girl you look like someone that I've done fucked before
I've been around the world, I've meet all kinds of girls
Girl you look like someone I done fucked on a tour

(And everything's changed)
I'm rich bitch
(You've done heard of my name)
50 Cent bitch

(I'ma P I M P)
I'ma pimp bitch
(You done heard about me)
'Coz I'm the shit

Now things change at first they didn't want me now they want me
See a nigga gettin' payed, they wanna push up on me
You see these hoes chasing a nigga, have 'em in a hotel casing a nigga
Treat me like a lollipop, like me, baby, then lick Dr. Dre and Shady

Groupie love
Now, gimme, gimme, gimme that groupie love
Now, gimme, gimme, gimme that groupie love
When you see me in V.I.P. with hoes around me

Man, now give me that groupie love
Come, gimme, gimme, gimme that groupie love
Come, gimme, gimme, gimme that groupie love
Tonight you wanna fuck wit me, it's alright with me
Come on an' gimme that groupie love

Sometimes I rhyme slow, sometimes I rhyme quick
That's the reason these groupies is on my dick
Listen young and old these hoes is loose
Wintertimes the staircase, summertimes the roof

Gimme eight days in the eighth homie, I'm straight
Have a church girl on the bus move an wait
I got birds backstage the serious eye candy
I got birds in the hood, so, I'm in to birds with Mary

My writing methods got me more hoes than Tice and Betha
Icy necklace on the tour, bus ass naked
Here straight 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 the pretty chrome
Fucking hoes over fifty four
My name here weight, you barely know you on that R Kelly shit
Your bitch is barely grown

Groupie love
Now, gimme, gimme, gimme that groupie love
Now, gimme, gimme, gimme that groupie love
When you see me in V.I.P. with hoes around me
Man, now give me that

Groupie love
Come, gimme, gimme, gimme that groupie love
Come, gimme, gimme, gimme that groupie love
Tonight you wanna fuck wit me, it's alright with me
Come on an' gimme that groupie love

G-g-g-unit

Is shorty ain't feelin' me? Shorty must like girls, like girls
'Coz I'm only eatin' your whirl
Bitch, I can make you famous, you don't know what your missin'
I can change your mind if you listen

If the bitch don't like me, the bitch must don't like men, like men
I say what I want 'coz I can
If I didn't I'd be a liar, mommy, I'm on fire
Come ride with a rider

The crowd say you might catch the king with a singer
For touching my doorbells, the only way I'll put a ring on your finger
Give me a convo with two cups an'
I'm in your bedroom fucking up your sheets like the Ku Klux Klan

I shook hands wit my fans and fuck 'em
I'm in the hallways tryin' to duck 'em
So, I can climb in to somethin', my name's B A N K, dollar sign, bitch
I'm a bigme to make that switch
Now come gimme that

Groupie love
Now, gimme, gimme, gimme that groupie love
Now, gimme, gimme, gimme that groupie love
When you see me in V.I.P. with hoes around me
Man, now give me that

Groupie love
Come, gimme, gimme, gimme that groupie love
Come, gimme, gimme, gimme that groupie love
Tonight you wanna fuck wit me, it's alright with me
Come on an' gimme that groupie love

Groupie love, I love that shit, yeah

Groupies come and groupies go and they are always at our show
So, I garb me the tightest one and then proceeded straight to the mall
She's so excited that she's here with me
That she feels she should pay here fee
And I did not disagree, so, she drooped down to her knees

Groupie love, yeah, groupie love, yeah, groupie love, yeah

Play the MP3 online for free!
3c2e57ac032ff13affd3ba3ba34ab0c0

Saturday, August 21, 2010

I'M A Mobsta - Lyrics - Untold Story Volume II - Game

Title: I'M A Mobsta
Album: Untold Story Volume II
Artist: Game
Composer(s): Joseph Marcelle Tom, Jayceon Terrell Taylor

Lyric:
Yeah! What is it? It's Young Menace and the Game
Stackin' chips, G-Unit, doublin' down on who?
Sacramenton's finest from Sac-Town to Compton, you dig?

Yo, yo, now ain't no tellin' what the Game'll do, listen dawg
I blow the guts out the dutch and do the same to you
And just to get shit crackin', I drop the toaster
Grab the Louis, go Sammy Sosa

And you ain't gotta know me to know that
I hop out a new pink Rolls
With the fifty-two, Pete Rose throwback
Haze in my eyes, listen to Bobby Womack
On the same corner where Eazy-E sold Coke at

And dawg, I'ma test your education
What do I mean when I say I move more birds than migration?
I'm the nigga that'll smoke the purple, get high as a kite
Down half the Goose then choke your workers

Don't make me put two in your shirt, dawg, I put in the work
Then move bags like Doony & Bert
And stuff work in the GMC 'cause on my block
I'm the King of Rock like Run-DMC, nigga

I'm a mobster, with a mac-11 chopper
That'll pop ya and put one through ya motherfuckin' collar
I'm a mobster, Robin Hood's like Kevin Costner
If ya fuck with my dollars, I'll make you swallow my daughters

I'm a mobster, I keep a bitch by my waist
Just in case I gotta draw down to get this big face
I'm a mobster, I'm a mobster

I got a lot to say
Dawg, I gotta get paid that's why I rock the lle'
And chop the lle' to push bricks through your block a day
I'll bring terror to your squad and make you rock away

Don't depend on tomorrow, you can get shot today
I'll spit acid on your turf and watch your block decay
Dawg, I spit on your grave and fertilize you too
I hit 'em hard with 16 bars, flames and fumes

Somebody needs to push your infant rap back in the womb
Go 'head and keep talkin' that shit and get your life consumed
I put a hole in your chest, dawg, the size of the moon
Yeah, you musta been talkin' how'd you get out that soon?

I got a chop that'll touch yo' head like Vidal Sassoon
You don't wanna see my platoon, I got gorillas and baboons
That won't hesitate, they gon' do what they have to
When there's beef on the streets, it's on for life like tattoos

I'm a mobster, with a mac-11 chopper
That'll pop ya and put one through ya motherfuckin' collar
I'm a mobster, Robin Hood's like Kevin Costner
If ya fuck with my dollars, I'll make you swallow my daughters

I'm a mobster, I keep a bitch by my waist
Just in case I gotta draw down to get this big face
I'm a mobster, I'm a mobster

It don't matter what season, don't matter not a day
I move traffic through the city, plus, I keep the right of way
I'm on point like Bibby, I'm the leader of the team, mayne
Got the whole city amped just like a Lakers versus Kings game

Everybody's fired up, I drop major packages
I'm never doin' bids because my game is so immaculate
The bitch try to snitch, "I can't deny it" like Fabolous
Before the evidence gatherin', someone's in an ambulance

Now, that'll learn you to keep your big mouth shut
Those with big mouths, I got the perfect size nuts
Yeah, I do my dirt but I wash my hands thoroughly
Handle my business first so I can celebrate early

It's business before pleasure, my business brings me pleasure
It feels good to be able to shine in any type of weather
That's why I do what I gotta do so my money's lookin' tight
Whether I'm jukin' on the block or have bitches hookin' lights y'know?

I'm a mobster, with a mac-11 chopper
That'll pop ya and put one through ya motherfuckin' collar
I'm a mobster, Robin Hood's like Kevin Costner
If ya fuck with my dollars, I'll make you swallow my daughters

I'm a mobster, I keep a bitch by my waist
Just in case I gotta draw down to get this big face
I'm a mobster, I'm a mobster

Play the MP3 online for free!
f98e2fae844a7e5875f273bda10747b7

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Unit - Stunt 101 - Lyrics - Beg For Mercy - G

Title: Unit - Stunt 101
Album: Beg For Mercy
Artist: G
Composer(s): Curtis Jackson, Christopher Lloyd, D Porter, David Brown

Lyric:
Yeah, ah ha
Stunt 101, yeah

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, n*** you can't see me
My Bently GT got smoke gray tints

I'll teach you how to stunt, my neck stay blingin'
My rims stay gleamin', I'm shinin' man
I'll teach you how to stunt, I see you schemin'
N*** you can keep on dreamin', I hurt ya mans
I'll teach you how to stunt

Seven series BM, six series Benz
Twenty four inches, Giovanni rims
R1 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 gettin' paper, I'm flashy
They like me better when I'm f*** 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

Bank's a sure thing, y'll n*** might blow
I'm fittin' to drop that so I suggest you lay low
Buc, he from Cashville, Tenneckee n***
Getting them ten of keys, save ten for me n***

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, n*** you can't see me
My Bently GT got smoke gray tints

I'll teach you how to stunt, my neck stay blingin'
My rims stay gleamin', I'm shinin' man
I'll teach you how to stunt, I see you schemin'
N*** you can keep on dreamin', I hurt ya mans
I'll teach you how to stunt

I'm 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 color Coupes but I'm in love with the black one

On point 'cuz you get R.I.P.'s when slackin'
So the stashbox's big enough to squeeze the mack in
Yeah, I'm feelin' 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' there's 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 b***
Come with me out front, I'll teach you how to stunt

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, n*** you can't see me
My Bently GT got smoke gray tints

I'll teach you how to stunt, my neck stay blingin'
My rims stay gleamin', I'm shinin' man
I'll teach you how to stunt, I see you schemin'
N*** you can keep on dreamin', I hurt ya mans
I'll teach you how to stunt

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 spinnin' man, I'm doin' my thing
And whodi now in trouble now that you in the game

Come on now, we all know gold is gettin' old
The ice in my teeth keep the crystal cold
G-Unit homie, actin' like y'll don't know
Look, I can't even walk through the mall no more

I just pull up, get out and get all the h***
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

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, n*** you can't see me
My Bently GT got smoke gray tints

I'll teach you how to stunt, my neck stay blingin'
My rims stay gleamin', I'm shinin' man
I'll teach you how to stunt, I see you schemin'
N*** you can keep on dreamin', I hurt ya mans
I'll teach you how to stunt

Play the MP3 online for free!
9832b89b2232a13da7c2dcd9ebb15848

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Just Another Day - Lyrics - Lloyd Banks

Title: Just Another Day
Artist: Lloyd Banks
Composer(s): Tony Hester, Christopher Lloyd

Lyric:
Man, what the fuck are you lookin' for?
Can't a young nigga make money any more
Blow a couple grand in the NBA Store
Rock twenty-four thousand on the NBA floor

Niggaz be on stage bendin' over on tour
Leave anti-social with a case of lochjaw
Just 'cause shorty look good don't mean that you should go
Puttin' ice on the bitch like she won the Superbowl

Even the chips are low, for all these so-called old heads
Just ain't the same niggaz I used to know
I got a Houston ho, nah she ain't the sharpest knife
In the drawer but she a damn good booster though

See I could fuck a supermodel in my day of work
Send her home with a smile and a couple kids on her shirt
I got a year into the game
A 141 rocks layin' on my chain, geah

Just another day, chillin' in the hood
Just another day around the way
I'm tipsy off the Hennessy
We ridin' round with the HK, nigga we don't play

Just another day, chillin' in the hood
Just another day around the way
We smoke a quarter pound a day
G-Unit we here to stay, nigga we don't play

Nevermind the lames in my era, they all want me dead
And I know, it's all over the way I see bread
Here I go, caught up in some he say, she said
'Til I go, put a slug in my enemy's head

The Tahoe's, bulletproof so you can't get through
Then follow, your ass and whoever ran with you
And you about as assed-out as two jammed pistols
Bleedin' around a bunch of niggaz who can't fix you

So bring yours 'cause you know I got mine with me kid
The 8'll make you lose weight like Missy did
The O.G.'s tryin' to hide they phony smilin'
Reputation always arise in Coney Island

I'm at your local newsstand jerk
While the only XXL you been in as a shirt
And, speakin' of shirts, get a new white T
Goddamn it feels good to be me, nigga

Just another day, chillin' in the hood
Just another day around the way
I'm tipsy off the Hennessy
We ridin' round with the HK, nigga we don't play

Just another day, chillin' in the hood
Just another day around the way
We smoke a quarter pound a day
G-Unit we here to stay, nigga we don't play

Now I'm goin', shoppin' with a plastic card now
I'm growin', knockin' international broads down
They know him, they're not gonna even pat the star down
I'm holdin', a glock so don't even act that hard now

You might bust your gun but your gat's in the car clown
So break your lil' weed up and crack your cigars down
'Cause I ain't tryin' to start my visits with the fuckin' judge
Givin' niggaz life like it's parkin' tickets

Now I get to go to bed with a model
And the crib is 'bout as big as it is on the Belvedere bottle
I got all kind of ex' I could ram in they faces
Red and blue pills like the man in The Matrix

You might have spent some paper on your lil' charm
But my piece is 'bout as heavy as Lil' Jon cup
But, it's never tucked, nigga I don't give a fuck
I'll get bucked 'fore I give somethin' up, yup

Just another day, chillin' in the hood
Just another day around the way
I'm tipsy off the Hennessy
We ridin' round with the HK, nigga we don't play

Just another day, chillin' in the hood
Just another day around the way
We smoke a quarter pound a day
G-Unit we here to stay, nigga we don't play

[Unverified]

Play the MP3 online for free!
3e2c25a08a55ea53d120583ef0ffee5d

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Unit - Poppin' Them Thangs - Lyrics - Beg For Mercy - G

Title: Unit - Poppin' Them Thangs
Album: Beg For Mercy
Artist: G
Composer(s): Curtis Jackson, Christopher Lloyd, David Brown, Michael Elizondo, Scott Storch, Andre Young

Lyric:
Every hood we go through
All the gangstas around know my whole crew
Nigga what? Nigga what?
We hold it down like we s'posed to
Nigga you can fuck if you want we be poppin' them thangs
Yeah
Every hood we go through
All the gangstas around know my whole crew
Nigga what? Nigga what?
We hold it down like we s'posed to
Nigga you can fuck if you want we be poppin' them thangs
Yeah

After the V.M.A.'s my baby Momma cuss my ass out
I kicked her ass we back friends like Puffy and Steve Stout
I cut the grass around my click so I can see these sneaks
You see back in the hood that's 'cuz I see they fake
I preach the sermon 'bout the paper like creflo dollar
I'll pop you punk niggas like I pop my colla
I'm confused, I like Megan, Monica, and Mya
Missy's freaky and Brandy's shot up
Now take a look at how my life style changed up
I'm on now god damn it I done came up
Now you can find me with the finest ho's
Choosin' which whip to drive by what match my clothes
I got a fetish for the stones, I'm heavy on the ice man
If I ain't gotta pistol on me, I'll be sure I got a knife man
Get outta line and I'll lighten yo ass up
Semi automatic spray I'll tighten yo ass up, yeah

Every hood we go through
All the gangstas around know my whole crew
Nigga what? Nigga what?
We hold it down like we s'posed to
Nigga you can front if you want we be poppin' them thangs
Yeah
Every hood we go through
All the gangstas around know my whole crew
Nigga what? Nigga what?
We hold it down like we s'posed to
Nigga you can fuck if you want we be poppin' them thangs
Yeah

Slow down little nigga don't exceed your speed
'Cuz I will put G's on your fitted like the Negro League
I got connects so I don't need no weed
I've been in L.A. for a year now so I don't see no seeds
After I'm done clappin' ya crew
Hell yeah I fuck fans, guess what? Your favorite rapper does too
In a minute, imma add a jewel for makin' my rims spin
My crew run wild like the Jamaicans at Kingston
Nothin' but bling bling in yo face boy
That's why my neck shine like one of the shirts
That Puffy and Mase wore
I done found a nympho as soon as I pop a bra
She had my balls head first like a soccer star
You can only stand next to the man if you proper
I take care of birds like an animal doctor
I've been out and buzzin' niggas just stepped on me
So I'm out for revenge like one of Bin Laden cousins

Every hood we go through
All the gangstas around know my whole crew
Nigga what? Nigga what?
We hold it down like we s'posed to
Nigga you can front if you want we be poppin' them thangs
Yeah
Every hood we go through
All the gangstas around know my whole crew
Nigga what? Nigga what?
We hold it down like we s'posed to
Nigga you can fuck if you want we be poppin' them thangs
Yeah

Look at the paper, look at the news we on the front page
We in the Bahama's with A.K.'s on the stage
The ice and the Jacob watch will make a broke nigga take somethin'
So I have to keep the four fifth with no safety button
G-Unit gettin' money, I know some artists that starvin'
Who play the game like they rich, to me this shit funny
I know you see me comin', 'cause 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

Every hood we go through
All the gangstas around know my whole crew
Nigga what? Nigga what?
We hold it down like we s'posed to
Nigga you can fuck if you want we be poppin' them thangs
Yeah
Every hood we go through
All the gangstas around know my whole crew
Nigga what? Nigga what?
We hold it down like we s'posed to
Nigga you can fuck if you want we be poppin' them thangs
Yeah

Play the MP3 online for free!
d3c72b229b30cde32c99bb8fc97844f3