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| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
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from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008)
The name's Banks! The boy wonder man
stack and a rubber band, gat in the other hand (Lloyd Banks) These lil niggas dont move me, go watch a movie im too smooth, white prada shoes with the dooey i spin ya f**kin neck when i speed the thru the ceilin is see-thru, all you top billin off of me too you might as well give ya money to me shorty cant dance in the strip club when your 40 come here, i show you how to get it if you with it if you let me i can teach you how to take it to the top with a bottle of Cris lady youll be naked on the spot gassed up from the conversation in the drop it wont be gifts or vacation to the trop's this hard dick bubble gum stake him in the pots i got a brand new semi out the box just in case a nigga think he smooth enuff to sneak in youll be one eyed shorter from the slaughter and ill be on the yacht round water out in Florida f**k the drama wassup, ya hammers in the truck u butt, so chill or ima have to f**k you up for real cristal bottle in ya grill, ill youll be in ground before glass teeth and blood spill they all know im a threat hoppin out the Lex i got a bitch for every letter in the alphabet like Aron and Brandy, Cary and Donna Erica and Felicia i nicknamed her Gabbana light skinned Heather i met her around the way and theres a few names that i aint suppose to say so ima skip to J, 'cause Jasmine and Jeniffer jaw bone in, Jessica come runs by the messenger they all know when it come to the hoes i get em down and they on under clothes, in them bundlelobes nah i dont need an umbrella the car come with those and to get one of those, youll need 100 shows im all summer froze, so the gun exposed ill gun butt ya f**ker, heres a bloody nose yea that was yo bitch, but the dummy chose yea im grimy as f**k you got to love it tho shorty caught feelings after i stroked her so what take a picture write a book call Oprah Blow Up" youll find a ice pic in a flow with a coke colored coupe white whip in the snow me and the bread bandin like a pimp and a hoe like smoker or the pipe like the coke on the phypes i dont continue nothin im the stroker her on the night on the sofa or the floor, hoe chokin off the mic like Banks i dont usually do, well they usually do and theyll all learn to like it you get used to it too niggas starin at my chain 'cause it use to be blue but i changed like you, deuce deuce in his shoe im on kush, cranberry juice goose and im thru then its back to the mansion to do what i do im back nigga, this is part 2 the hunger for more money im right at ya door dummy ?? pops bottles up, nigga im by the buck dont look at the Ferrari you cant even buy the truck ya boy fresh out the hood and he hot as f**k on a hunt for the cheese, keep ya ricatta tucked they on that plottin shit, right in the lobby shit run up in my yard and run around with the shoddy shit family members identified in a body shit 'cause it been so long, that John Gotti shit im in the 2-0-0 Maserati whip concrete colored Mclaren its a hobby shit HAHAH AAAHHHHHH!!!!! SEE YOU NIGGAS ON TOP MAN |
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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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4:26 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
<i>[Tony Yayo]</i>
Yee nigga Fuckin back hunger for more Tony's home Yo Banks I told these niggas man <i>[Lloyd Banks]</i> Yall done fucked up now Yee! Yeeeeee! <i>[Tony Yayo]</i> Here We go <i>[Chorus: Lloyd Banks]</i> Aint no click like the one I'm with If the drama gets thick its the guns I get (Now) G Unit niggaz is runnin this shit (Now) If you aint reppin where you from then sit (Down) We gettin dough everywhere we go And it's killin 'em slow just to hear me blow (Now) G Unit niggaz is runnin this shit (Now) If you aint reppin where you from sit down <i>[Verse 1: Lloyd Banks]</i> By now I know you done seen me On your stadium or TV with three eighty on the EV I skeet babies on your breezy And I aint stoppin Only Jake the Jacob could freeze me Leaves me and its bye bye gone We got guns like Pop-eye arms I put a ring on their finger But the rats still askin Cause theres one in all they mind Im the Rap Phil Jackson N I built a rep for murderin every Whoo Kid, Kayslay and Big Mike Admit it the kid tight, And you aint even put up a fight So its back to da amatures, Wrapped in ya sandwhiches I'm hot now so the rats wanna stand with us They hop in the van with us and clap on cameras I hit the clubs now I'm back tourin Canada Amongst weed smokers, and crap floor gamblers <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Verse 2: Lloyd Banks]</i> Make sure the birds dont get brought to 'em I watched Kobe go from the basketball court to the courtroom Go ahead try n do me harm soldier You'll be in a black bag like grass out the lawnmower And I'll be damn if I co-sign a old snitch That was gangbangin when jaws was a goldfish I'm the name they all screamin on the street For bullyin the bassline and leanin on the beat I'm well known now so you see me on the creeps Schemin on a freak fan blade leanin on a jeep Aint walkin with the fire, so if you say banks in ya verse then you better be talkin bout Tyra From PA to LA, Atlanta to Texas, Nashville to Memphis, My buzz is tremendous I pass thru the city slow, but the hit the gas on the silly hoe Bounce like ass in my video <i>[Chorus: Lloyd Banks]</i> Aint no click like the one I'm with If the drama gets thick its the guns I get (Now) G Unit niggaz is runnin this shit (Now) If you aint reppin where you from then sit (Down) We gettin dough everywhere we go And it's killin 'em slow just to hear me blow (Now) G Unit niggaz is runnin this shit (Now) If you aint reppin where you from sit down <i>[Verse 3: Tony Yayo]</i> (Ayo banks let me put some work in, its been a while) Ayo, uno, dos, tres, cuatro My clique eat like the 12 holy apostles And bust down models in flushed out tahoes Jewels froze look like we hit the lotto P89, my clip filled wit hollows Stun in the club get hit with yellow bottles Don't speak ma, if your neck dont swallow Cuz 50 push bentleys and Dre push Diablos That Eminem money got cash in my eskro Scrooge Mcduck stays swimmin' in my cash flow Yay rappers cracked man I got the best blow Best flow, Banks put me in the booth lets go Think like castro, Games in the lasso Dont jump in the Benz without steps on the petro God gave me this flow so I am special and 16 bars nigga I'm finished, finito! <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Tony Yayo]</i> We Told YAll Muthafuckas Man! Yall Niggas Look Like Us And Smell Like Us But Your Not Us Man! Lloyd Banks Hunger For More! We Back Nigga! 50 The General! Young Dezzy Buck! Game! The Rap Game Is Ours Nigga! Hunger For More! Rida Music Nigga! This For Them Gangsta, Them Generals, Them Comrades! Uh Huh! This Is Rida Music! (HaHa) |
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4:25 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
<i>[Tony Yayo]</i>
Yee nigga Fuckin back hunger for more Tony's home Yo Banks I told these niggas man <i>[Lloyd Banks]</i> Yall done fucked up now Yee! Yeeeeee! <i>[Tony Yayo]</i> Here We go <i>[Chorus: Lloyd Banks]</i> Aint no click like the one I'm with If the drama gets thick its the guns I get (Now) G Unit niggaz is runnin this shit (Now) If you aint reppin where you from then sit (Down) We gettin dough everywhere we go And it's killin 'em slow just to hear me blow (Now) G Unit niggaz is runnin this shit (Now) If you aint reppin where you from sit down <i>[Verse 1: Lloyd Banks]</i> By now I know you done seen me On your stadium or TV with three eighty on the EV I skeet babies on your breezy And I aint stoppin Only Jake the Jacob could freeze me Leaves me and its bye bye gone We got guns like Pop-eye arms I put a ring on their finger But the rats still askin Cause theres one in all they mind Im the Rap Phil Jackson N I built a rep for murderin every Whoo Kid, Kayslay and Big Mike Admit it the kid tight, And you aint even put up a fight So its back to da amatures, Wrapped in ya sandwhiches I'm hot now so the rats wanna stand with us They hop in the van with us and clap on cameras I hit the clubs now I'm back tourin Canada Amongst weed smokers, and crap floor gamblers <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Verse 2: Lloyd Banks]</i> Make sure the birds dont get brought to 'em I watched Kobe go from the basketball court to the courtroom Go ahead try n do me harm soldier You'll be in a black bag like grass out the lawnmower And I'll be damn if I co-sign a old snitch That was gangbangin when jaws was a goldfish I'm the name they all screamin on the street For bullyin the bassline and leanin on the beat I'm well known now so you see me on the creeps Schemin on a freak fan blade leanin on a jeep Aint walkin with the fire, so if you say banks in ya verse then you better be talkin bout Tyra From PA to LA, Atlanta to Texas, Nashville to Memphis, My buzz is tremendous I pass thru the city slow, but the hit the gas on the silly hoe Bounce like ass in my video <i>[Chorus: Lloyd Banks]</i> Aint no click like the one I'm with If the drama gets thick its the guns I get (Now) G Unit niggaz is runnin this shit (Now) If you aint reppin where you from then sit (Down) We gettin dough everywhere we go And it's killin 'em slow just to hear me blow (Now) G Unit niggaz is runnin this shit (Now) If you aint reppin where you from sit down <i>[Verse 3: Tony Yayo]</i> (Ayo banks let me put some work in, its been a while) Ayo, uno, dos, tres, cuatro My clique eat like the 12 holy apostles And bust down models in flushed out tahoes Jewels froze look like we hit the lotto P89, my clip filled wit hollows Stun in the club get hit with yellow bottles Don't speak ma, if your neck dont swallow Cuz 50 push bentleys and Dre push Diablos That Eminem money got cash in my eskro Scrooge Mcduck stays swimmin' in my cash flow Yay rappers cracked man I got the best blow Best flow, Banks put me in the booth lets go Think like castro, Games in the lasso Dont jump in the Benz without steps on the petro God gave me this flow so I am special and 16 bars nigga I'm finished, finito! <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Tony Yayo]</i> We Told YAll Muthafuckas Man! Yall Niggas Look Like Us And Smell Like Us But Your Not Us Man! Lloyd Banks Hunger For More! We Back Nigga! 50 The General! Young Dezzy Buck! Game! The Rap Game Is Ours Nigga! Hunger For More! Rida Music Nigga! This For Them Gangsta, Them Generals, Them Comrades! Uh Huh! This Is Rida Music! (HaHa) |
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3:55 |
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from G-Unit - Wanna Get To Know You [single] (2004)
(50 Cent) G-Unit! Ha Ha! 50 Cent Hook: If some shots may happen to go off tonight Don't worry about me I be aight Niggaz could waiste ammo firin at me because I'm God's child there's angels around me Hook x 2 Verse 1(Young Buck) Lifes a bitch and then you die it couldnt be worse I either dont eat this week or snatch this purse clip hangin out the side of my Karl Kani my eyes blood shot red I'm High But Let's Ride! I ain't scared if i die it was meant to be He might send for yall before he send for me gun butt you with the back of the beretta the 357 or the black mac 11! We drive bullet proof coupes nigga gon take ya shots We use to shoot hoops nigga now we shoot up blocks Got them shells with them green tips just for ya'll you can run but they coming through them concrete walls Bank$ drop me off show me where he live at think he tough I'ma put 6 in this 6 pack when you here that click clack bitch betta get back quick one to the chest make niggas do back flips Hook x 2 Verse 2 (Lloyd Bank$) Yeah I know you niggas want me to get murked get lowered in the dirt in an all black button down shirt cold wit 3 to the dome lil' niggas don't get to see disney land they settle for a funeral home you dont need hoes to know that the leads hot I'm prepared for anything tonight aslong as it's not a head shot the bigger the rim the bigger the tire hollow tips'll make it feel like a nigga on fire Everybody got to go it's the truth so i figure while i'm waitin on my turn i'ma blow up the booth I seen niggas in wheel chairs, eye patches and cruches arm slings that came home to have and dutches we can go there but need i shoot put some holes in your Fila suit you'll probably url when you see my crew I play the hood all the time because I don't give a f**k! you can shoot me down as long as i keep gettin up what! Hook x 2 Verse Three (50 Cent) Shootout shots ricochet, doc says that nigga dead When your time's up, your time's up, this is real shit On my balls 'til my number calls, say a prayer hopin God hear - look, I don't fear man Wanna bang out let's bang out, I don't care man A eye for an eye, my perfect to perfections They have me sprayin automatics in every direction Call me Louie Loco, nut case, oh no I'm more like the kid that put the game in a chokehold You stunt and I stop it, I'm makin a profit Every time you hear my vo-cals comin out them lo-lo's From LA to NY, on the red-eye Teflon in my luggage, you gotta love it, I'm thuggin My street slang, my penitentiary posture Got me out sellin niggaz whole f**kin rosters I'm big in New York, like B.I.G. Plus I runs with D-R-E Hook x2
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3:55 |
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from G-Unit - Wanna Get To Know You [single] (2004)
(50 Cent) G-Unit! Ha Ha! 50 Cent Hook: If some shots may happen to go off tonight Don't worry about me I be aight Niggaz could waiste ammo firin at me because I'm God's child there's angels around me Hook x 2 Verse 1(Young Buck) Lifes a bitch and then you die it couldnt be worse I either dont eat this week or snatch this purse clip hangin out the side of my Karl Kani my eyes blood shot red I'm High But Let's Ride! I ain't scared if i die it was meant to be He might send for yall before he send for me gun butt you with the back of the beretta the 357 or the black mac 11! We drive bullet proof coupes nigga gon take ya shots We use to shoot hoops nigga now we shoot up blocks Got them shells with them green tips just for ya'll you can run but they coming through them concrete walls Bank$ drop me off show me where he live at think he tough I'ma put 6 in this 6 pack when you here that click clack bitch betta get back quick one to the chest make niggas do back flips Hook x 2 Verse 2 (Lloyd Bank$) Yeah I know you niggas want me to get murked get lowered in the dirt in an all black button down shirt cold wit 3 to the dome lil' niggas don't get to see disney land they settle for a funeral home you dont need hoes to know that the leads hot I'm prepared for anything tonight aslong as it's not a head shot the bigger the rim the bigger the tire hollow tips'll make it feel like a nigga on fire Everybody got to go it's the truth so i figure while i'm waitin on my turn i'ma blow up the booth I seen niggas in wheel chairs, eye patches and cruches arm slings that came home to have and dutches we can go there but need i shoot put some holes in your Fila suit you'll probably url when you see my crew I play the hood all the time because I don't give a f**k! you can shoot me down as long as i keep gettin up what! Hook x 2 Verse Three (50 Cent) Shootout shots ricochet, doc says that nigga dead When your time's up, your time's up, this is real shit On my balls 'til my number calls, say a prayer hopin God hear - look, I don't fear man Wanna bang out let's bang out, I don't care man A eye for an eye, my perfect to perfections They have me sprayin automatics in every direction Call me Louie Loco, nut case, oh no I'm more like the kid that put the game in a chokehold You stunt and I stop it, I'm makin a profit Every time you hear my vo-cals comin out them lo-lo's From LA to NY, on the red-eye Teflon in my luggage, you gotta love it, I'm thuggin My street slang, my penitentiary posture Got me out sellin niggaz whole f**kin rosters I'm big in New York, like B.I.G. Plus I runs with D-R-E Hook x2
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3:40 |
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from Dj Kayslay - The Streetsweeper Vol.2 (2004)
If, some shots should happen to go off tonight Don't worry about me, I'll be aight Niggaz can waste ten while firin at me Cause I'm God's child, there's angels around me [Young Buck] Life's a bitch and then you die, this couldn't be worse I either don't eat this week, or snatch this purse Clip hangin out the side of my Karl Kani My eyes bloodshot red, I'm high but LET'S RIDE! I ain't scared, if I die it was meant to be He might send for you, before he send for me Gun-butt you with the back of the baretta The three-fifty-seven or, the black mac-11 We drive bulletproof Coupes nigga, go on take your shot We used to shoot hoops nigga, now we shoot up blocks Got them shells with them green tips just for y'all You can run but they comin through them country walls Bang dropped me off and show me where he live at Think he tough? I'ma put six in his six-pack When you hear that click-clack bitch better get back quick One to the chest make niggaz do backflips [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] You don't think I know you niggaz want me to get murked Get lowered in the dirt in all black with a button-downed shirt Cold with two to the dome - the little niggaz don't get to see Disneyland, they'll settle for a funeral home You don't need hoes to know that the lead's hot I'm prepared for anything tonight as long as it's not a headshot The bigger the rim, the bigger the tire Hollow tips'll make him feel like a nigga on fire Everybody gotta go, it's the truth So I figure while I'm waitin on my turn I'ma blow up the booth I seen niggaz in wheelchairs, eye patches and crutches Arm |
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| from Dj Kayslay - The Streetsweeper Vol. 2 - The Pain From The Game (2004) | |||||
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| from Dj Kayslay - The Streetsweeper Vol. 2 - The Pain From The Game / Clean Version (2004) | |||||
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4:04 |
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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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4:04 |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
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 kind of 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 and 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 Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
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2:39 |
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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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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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| from Too $hort - Pimpin' (2006) | |||||
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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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3:20 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
[50 Cent]
Disrespectful Anything, I let you breathe Now you're dead [Chorus: 50 Cent] There's no room without casualties End up in a wake when you fuck with me You got beef with my man you got beef with me I got the semi on me motherfucker you'll see Devil 'round the corner [50 Cent] Is that my dawg, that slap that cat? Now how did the chicken give birth to a rat? Now how did the rat learn to sing like a bird? His pops is a O.G., this is absurd My gun game right, my knife game right Fuck around I get right, in broad daylight Spin the barrel on a nigga, pin the tail on the donkey It's a zoo out this bitch, I put a hole in the monkey Got the gemstars to rip 'em, hundred shots to clip 'em Bodybags they zip 'em, and we don't know a thang You hit nigga you trippin, you think it's over you trippin Reload slap the clip in, back, back, strapped [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] Uhh, I drink like a uncle, smoke like a rasta Ball like a superstar, talk like a boxer Fuck like a rabbit, shit like a dinosaur See like a sniper, lil' nigga aim height is raw Ride like a Lambo', stunt like I'm out of town Strap like Commando, B-A-N-K-dollar sign Live everything up I won't, change like the others, nope Switch overnight I can't, I'm outside his camp I'm 'bout a dollar boy and dollar bills'll kill Kill that bullshit, I'm famous but I'm ridin with the steel Will throw it all away, I see you later today You'll see I'm fadin away, that's all I'm able to say [Chorus] [Tony Yayo] Yeah, it's the enforcer Yayo We could do it in broad daylight In front of the White House for all I care I blow your heart out your body sucka Then jump in the Aston blastin, burnin rubber Black ski mask, the Aston tinted Ditch the gun, burn the car cause my DNA in it Next day it's the GT, stunt off of G.P. Fist full of stones, fingers glowin like E.T. Fake O.G., O.G. Bobby Jones Do your son like J-Rock, Mausberg pumpin I'm stuntin, focus like a digital camera Got that P-95 with that invisible hammer Nigga who you tryin to ride on, I'm a icon Heart made of steel, balls made of ir-on [Chorus] [50 Cent] Devil 'round the corner, corner |
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3:20 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
[50 Cent]
Disrespectful Anything, I let you breathe Now you're dead [Chorus: 50 Cent] There's no room without casualties End up in a wake when you fuck with me You got beef with my man you got beef with me I got the semi on me motherfucker you'll see Devil 'round the corner [50 Cent] Is that my dawg, that slap that cat? Now how did the chicken give birth to a rat? Now how did the rat learn to sing like a bird? His pops is a O.G., this is absurd My gun game right, my knife game right Fuck around I get right, in broad daylight Spin the barrel on a nigga, pin the tail on the donkey It's a zoo out this bitch, I put a hole in the monkey Got the gemstars to rip 'em, hundred shots to clip 'em Bodybags they zip 'em, and we don't know a thang You hit nigga you trippin, you think it's over you trippin Reload slap the clip in, back, back, strapped [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] Uhh, I drink like a uncle, smoke like a rasta Ball like a superstar, talk like a boxer Fuck like a rabbit, shit like a dinosaur See like a sniper, lil' nigga aim height is raw Ride like a Lambo', stunt like I'm out of town Strap like Commando, B-A-N-K-dollar sign Live everything up I won't, change like the others, nope Switch overnight I can't, I'm outside his camp I'm 'bout a dollar boy and dollar bills'll kill Kill that bullshit, I'm famous but I'm ridin with the steel Will throw it all away, I see you later today You'll see I'm fadin away, that's all I'm able to say [Chorus] [Tony Yayo] Yeah, it's the enforcer Yayo We could do it in broad daylight In front of the White House for all I care I blow your heart out your body sucka Then jump in the Aston blastin, burnin rubber Black ski mask, the Aston tinted Ditch the gun, burn the car cause my DNA in it Next day it's the GT, stunt off of G.P. Fist full of stones, fingers glowin like E.T. Fake O.G., O.G. Bobby Jones Do your son like J-Rock, Mausberg pumpin I'm stuntin, focus like a digital camera Got that P-95 with that invisible hammer Nigga who you tryin to ride on, I'm a icon Heart made of steel, balls made of ir-on [Chorus] [50 Cent] Devil 'round the corner, corner |
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4:39 |
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| from French Montana - Cocaine Everything (2012) | |||||
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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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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
Unstoppable
Incredible Impeccable It's it's the unit Woo woo u know how we do it Woo woo I make u dance to it Woo woo throw up your hands to it Go ahead call the cops come on Girl what's it gonna take to have u close to me right by my side where u suppose to be they start to notice u when they notice me and u can have it all free of charge I know u like europen cars take take a look at my garage make make a week of no menage me in the middle and your legs to the side (50 Cent:) I've got that bentley ferrary that lambo lean My car game crazy I can't be seen The aston bugatti the range and the rovs Got me freakin off with some high class hoes U know with me man anything goes I have shoty in the telly working all 3 hoes Jesuse I bet u won't bealive this unless I let u see this She deep throat my whole coock Now I'm thinking this bitch is so hot I gotta take her to my hood let her blow my whole block Yeah I just happen to be what she likes She said I'm special I'm like yeah babe u right A lil goose a lil patrone tonight I have a club lookin like a fucking zoo aiight New music u can't confuse it with the other cliques or crews it's the unit Girl what's it gonna take to have u close to me right by my side where u suppose to be they start to notice u when they notice me and u can have it all free of charge I know u like europen cars take take a look at my garage make make a week of no menage me in the middle and your legs to the side (Lloyd Banks:) Shorty came over I told her I can mould her Turn her to a rider rub it with a roler Hold up like a cobra hold her till she sober Fold her in positions so it's hard to bend over I'm a very special kind I can't let u shine These rappers out their mind don't come get'em make em rime Take a look at my design my luis fittin fine My jewelry might blind I'm a walking white line U can't get on my level that will take a lifetime And what I got at 25 it'll take ya life time And I don't care about crime as long as it's not mine And I'm a be fine I'm stronger then white line If ya girl ain't home till the early morn She's probably with the g-unit geting it on I told her she's miss right so it can't be wrong And we went at it all night long Girl what's it gonna take to have u close to me right by my side where u suppose to be they start to notice u when they notice me and u can have it all free of charge I know u like europen cars take take a look at my garage make make a week of no menage me in the middle and your legs to the side (Tony Yayo:) For 1 or 10 baby girl off the ripdawg But I ain't trickin I ain't nelly and spitzaw Shake that ass drop it low like a striper Shake that ass drop it low like a striper I'm in love again on them drugs again Same club same spot same girls again Girls comin in and were poopin them bottles By 12 o'clock we be poopin them models Yeah for settle the club go crazy like uh uhh uhh baby Okay bottle of Jose shorty she the portion her friend like heyy Girl jump in watch me go 0 to 60 Take u to the rich slope off your miss sixtys I know u heard of 50 I know u heard of yay I steve nash this hoes pass them all day Girl what's it gonna take to have u close to me right by my side where u suppose to be they start to notice u when they notice me and u can have it all free of charge I know u like europen cars take take a look at my garage make make a week of no menage me in the middle and your legs to the side It's easy man Belive me man This is the unit This is how we do it Banks yay 50 |
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4:18 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
Unstoppable
Incredible Impeccable It's it's the unit Woo woo u know how we do it Woo woo I make u dance to it Woo woo throw up your hands to it Go ahead call the cops come on Girl what's it gonna take to have u close to me right by my side where u suppose to be they start to notice u when they notice me and u can have it all free of charge I know u like europen cars take take a look at my garage make make a week of no menage me in the middle and your legs to the side (50 Cent:) I've got that bentley ferrary that lambo lean My car game crazy I can't be seen The aston bugatti the range and the rovs Got me freakin off with some high class hoes U know with me man anything goes I have shoty in the telly working all 3 hoes Jesuse I bet u won't bealive this unless I let u see this She deep throat my whole coock Now I'm thinking this bitch is so hot I gotta take her to my hood let her blow my whole block Yeah I just happen to be what she likes She said I'm special I'm like yeah babe u right A lil goose a lil patrone tonight I have a club lookin like a fucking zoo aiight New music u can't confuse it with the other cliques or crews it's the unit Girl what's it gonna take to have u close to me right by my side where u suppose to be they start to notice u when they notice me and u can have it all free of charge I know u like europen cars take take a look at my garage make make a week of no menage me in the middle and your legs to the side (Lloyd Banks:) Shorty came over I told her I can mould her Turn her to a rider rub it with a roler Hold up like a cobra hold her till she sober Fold her in positions so it's hard to bend over I'm a very special kind I can't let u shine These rappers out their mind don't come get'em make em rime Take a look at my design my luis fittin fine My jewelry might blind I'm a walking white line U can't get on my level that will take a lifetime And what I got at 25 it'll take ya life time And I don't care about crime as long as it's not mine And I'm a be fine I'm stronger then white line If ya girl ain't home till the early morn She's probably with the g-unit geting it on I told her she's miss right so it can't be wrong And we went at it all night long Girl what's it gonna take to have u close to me right by my side where u suppose to be they start to notice u when they notice me and u can have it all free of charge I know u like europen cars take take a look at my garage make make a week of no menage me in the middle and your legs to the side (Tony Yayo:) For 1 or 10 baby girl off the ripdawg But I ain't trickin I ain't nelly and spitzaw Shake that ass drop it low like a striper Shake that ass drop it low like a striper I'm in love again on them drugs again Same club same spot same girls again Girls comin in and were poopin them bottles By 12 o'clock we be poopin them models Yeah for settle the club go crazy like uh uhh uhh baby Okay bottle of Jose shorty she the portion her friend like heyy Girl jump in watch me go 0 to 60 Take u to the rich slope off your miss sixtys I know u heard of 50 I know u heard of yay I steve nash this hoes pass them all day Girl what's it gonna take to have u close to me right by my side where u suppose to be they start to notice u when they notice me and u can have it all free of charge I know u like europen cars take take a look at my garage make make a week of no menage me in the middle and your legs to the side It's easy man Belive me man This is the unit This is how we do it Banks yay 50 |
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| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
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3:14 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
<i>[VERSE 1]</i>
(uh huh) I keep my hip on pound Cause chickens hectic in my town Drag my family with me cause that's how real niggas get down (gea) If it wasn't for 50 I probably wouldn't be around (gea) Caught up in the temptation sitting in jail or in the ground (gea) If for that if you snap a finger and I'll lay a nigga down (whoo) It's fucked up when you're only facial expression is a frown (uh huh) A hood rat will put a future in a fool's pants Till she find out you can't buy furniture with food stamps (uh huh) A year ago I made a decision before I shut my eyelids Better if I get shot tomorrow cause I don't like surprises When you hot as an oven they with open arms When you cold as a freezer niggas treat you like they don't need ya Some people call it ?? me I call it amnesia Live my life principal driven never bite that hand that feeds you (uh) Never mind all the haters fuck'em all let them die slow All I need is my niggas, money, liquor and hydro (I kno) <i>[CHORUS x2]</i> Everybody gon' die one day Whether it's natural cause it's a gunplay But fuckin with me you sliding down a one way I keep it gangsta from Monday to Sunday <i>[VERSE 2]</i> Don't blame me Blame my mom and pop for breeding this (uh huh) The game needed this Lloyd Banks AKA Mr. I don't feed a bitch Don't need a bitch I stay there when I need a bitch You want a trick you need to switch Cause I don't think you could beat this bitch (whoa) This is all I gotta have to blow So whether it's fast or slow Platinum flow making it easy to kidnap a hoe (uh huh) Pop the back Pass the dro Roll about a half an O The git citizenship my pimp is international (yee) You gotta agree These motherfuckas will probably find Bin Laden before they find a nigga hotter than me We on top as far as I can see And since the hood watching me My regular trip to the mall is a shopping spree (damn) I'm the #1 draft pick none of ya'll are topping me (uh huh) I move around with the plastic you ain't dropping me (uh huh) They show me love on my city They fuckin with me and I'm fuckin with them Nigga G-Unit till the end (Gea) <i>[CHORUS x2]</i> <i>[Lloyd Banks]</i> Ya six inches from a coffin (coffin) So I suggest you stop talkin (talkin) And make me result to violence (violence) And you'll no longer be walkin (walkin) Ya six inches from a coffin (coffin) So I suggest you stop talkin (talkin) And make me result to violence (violence) Nigga.. (nigga) Yeee.. You gotta love it! |
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3:14 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
<i>[VERSE 1]</i>
(uh huh) I keep my hip on pound Cause chickens hectic in my town Drag my family with me cause that's how real niggas get down (gea) If it wasn't for 50 I probably wouldn't be around (gea) Caught up in the temptation sitting in jail or in the ground (gea) If for that if you snap a finger and I'll lay a nigga down (whoo) It's fucked up when you're only facial expression is a frown (uh huh) A hood rat will put a future in a fool's pants Till she find out you can't buy furniture with food stamps (uh huh) A year ago I made a decision before I shut my eyelids Better if I get shot tomorrow cause I don't like surprises When you hot as an oven they with open arms When you cold as a freezer niggas treat you like they don't need ya Some people call it ?? me I call it amnesia Live my life principal driven never bite that hand that feeds you (uh) Never mind all the haters fuck'em all let them die slow All I need is my niggas, money, liquor and hydro (I kno) <i>[CHORUS x2]</i> Everybody gon' die one day Whether it's natural cause it's a gunplay But fuckin with me you sliding down a one way I keep it gangsta from Monday to Sunday <i>[VERSE 2]</i> Don't blame me Blame my mom and pop for breeding this (uh huh) The game needed this Lloyd Banks AKA Mr. I don't feed a bitch Don't need a bitch I stay there when I need a bitch You want a trick you need to switch Cause I don't think you could beat this bitch (whoa) This is all I gotta have to blow So whether it's fast or slow Platinum flow making it easy to kidnap a hoe (uh huh) Pop the back Pass the dro Roll about a half an O The git citizenship my pimp is international (yee) You gotta agree These motherfuckas will probably find Bin Laden before they find a nigga hotter than me We on top as far as I can see And since the hood watching me My regular trip to the mall is a shopping spree (damn) I'm the #1 draft pick none of ya'll are topping me (uh huh) I move around with the plastic you ain't dropping me (uh huh) They show me love on my city They fuckin with me and I'm fuckin with them Nigga G-Unit till the end (Gea) <i>[CHORUS x2]</i> <i>[Lloyd Banks]</i> Ya six inches from a coffin (coffin) So I suggest you stop talkin (talkin) And make me result to violence (violence) And you'll no longer be walkin (walkin) Ya six inches from a coffin (coffin) So I suggest you stop talkin (talkin) And make me result to violence (violence) Nigga.. (nigga) Yeee.. You gotta love it! |
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| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
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| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
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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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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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4:47 |
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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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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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4:12 |
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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 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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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
(feat. Swizz Beatz)
[50 Cent] Yeah, it's the Unit! Yeah (showtime) Swizz! OHH! (M, C) Wooooo! [Chorus: 50 Cent] I run the show! No ifs, ands or buts about it Me fall off? Listen homeboy, I doubt it Me? I gets down, I get down down down I get down, I get down down down I get down, I get down down down I get down, I get down down down [50 Cent] I spit it how I live it man they love it when I talk shit Not three, not two, I'm number one on the chart bitch (yeah) Drama get to poppin even when I don't start shit I turn around there's only two shells left in the cartridge My homies dumb out, my homies dumb out Find out what they 'bout, when the guns come out I got a shitty attitude cause I come from the bullshit Got the ammo on me now, nigga front I'ma pull this [Tony Yayo] In the hood, you rat you die In the hood if you rap you die I'm out the hood gettin fat and high Private jet, it's time to fly Got the Roley with the bezzy gettin head in Dubai And my wolves come out when the moon comes up Before we take a hit, we roll that buddah Hydro and hash take me to the moon Alice I got bad aim but the fiends on the rats, YEAH! [Chorus] [50 Cent] Baby we'll get lotto from Murcielago I race in my driveway; motherfuck the highway Niggaz talk money just not around me I get the cheddar, ask Swizz, I blow the parmesan cheese Like it really means nothin, cause it really means nothin I'm not what you used to, I'm really not frontin Tell the shorties I ain't got time to talk, I'm trickin I want what I want, and what I want I'm gettin [Lloyd Banks] Uhh, forty thou' earlobe, 40-cal gripper That'll make a girl out the "Green Mile" nigga In the street rapper, industry bully It's cold, tees turn to rest-in-peace hoodies (uhh) I gets 'em out, my tricks playin spades I swim in dime pussy, piss Rose Unit rider, my clique don't play I got a pocket full of green now my wrists all gleam [Chorus] [50 Cent] You know if God bless the child with so much swag Now what am I supposed to do with all this cash? Seats less pussy got, all that ass Shakin it and wiggle, your skinny bitch mad AHH! These niggaz ain't hot like we They don't know how to rock the spot like me Smell like I just got out a brand new V My black ass fresh up out of Bentley C's Work with me lil' mama, let's get it Wan' take you down to the flo', shorty I'm wit it I'm on that shit, we on that shit I ain't on that rubber grip, nah nigga don't trip [Chorus] [Swizz Beatz] Wind it up (wooo!) Wind it up (wooo!) Wind it up (wooo!) Hit the flo', flo' (wooo!) That flo', flo' (wooo!) |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
(feat. Swizz Beatz)
[50 Cent] Yeah, it's the Unit! Yeah (showtime) Swizz! OHH! (M, C) Wooooo! [Chorus: 50 Cent] I run the show! No ifs, ands or buts about it Me fall off? Listen homeboy, I doubt it Me? I gets down, I get down down down I get down, I get down down down I get down, I get down down down I get down, I get down down down [50 Cent] I spit it how I live it man they love it when I talk shit Not three, not two, I'm number one on the chart bitch (yeah) Drama get to poppin even when I don't start shit I turn around there's only two shells left in the cartridge My homies dumb out, my homies dumb out Find out what they 'bout, when the guns come out I got a shitty attitude cause I come from the bullshit Got the ammo on me now, nigga front I'ma pull this [Tony Yayo] In the hood, you rat you die In the hood if you rap you die I'm out the hood gettin fat and high Private jet, it's time to fly Got the Roley with the bezzy gettin head in Dubai And my wolves come out when the moon comes up Before we take a hit, we roll that buddah Hydro and hash take me to the moon Alice I got bad aim but the fiends on the rats, YEAH! [Chorus] [50 Cent] Baby we'll get lotto from Murcielago I race in my driveway; motherfuck the highway Niggaz talk money just not around me I get the cheddar, ask Swizz, I blow the parmesan cheese Like it really means nothin, cause it really means nothin I'm not what you used to, I'm really not frontin Tell the shorties I ain't got time to talk, I'm trickin I want what I want, and what I want I'm gettin [Lloyd Banks] Uhh, forty thou' earlobe, 40-cal gripper That'll make a girl out the "Green Mile" nigga In the street rapper, industry bully It's cold, tees turn to rest-in-peace hoodies (uhh) I gets 'em out, my tricks playin spades I swim in dime pussy, piss Rose Unit rider, my clique don't play I got a pocket full of green now my wrists all gleam [Chorus] [50 Cent] You know if God bless the child with so much swag Now what am I supposed to do with all this cash? Seats less pussy got, all that ass Shakin it and wiggle, your skinny bitch mad AHH! These niggaz ain't hot like we They don't know how to rock the spot like me Smell like I just got out a brand new V My black ass fresh up out of Bentley C's Work with me lil' mama, let's get it Wan' take you down to the flo', shorty I'm wit it I'm on that shit, we on that shit I ain't on that rubber grip, nah nigga don't trip [Chorus] [Swizz Beatz] Wind it up (wooo!) Wind it up (wooo!) Wind it up (wooo!) Hit the flo', flo' (wooo!) That flo', flo' (wooo!) |
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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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| from Purple City, Moe Sticky - Purple City Byrdgang: Hatin' from the Sideline (2005) | |||||
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2:17 |
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| from God Of War, Vol. 2 (2011) | |||||
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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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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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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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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
I don't wan' talk about it
(50) Man I don't wanna talk about it (Nah) Man I don't wan' talk about it (Yeah) And I don't wanna talk about it (Wooh) I?m makin? millions quick and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I shoot a nigga kid and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I fuck the baddest bitches, I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I'm still flippin? chickens, I don't wan' talk about it (These niggaz police) Nah, I don't wanna talk about it Go 'head, ask me what I'm ridin? in so I can say the Enzo My bitch roll down the window so I could feel the wind blow Got big enough for me to fiddle on my kinfolk Bitches with me cruisin?, Moulin Rougin' They fuckin? and they strippin?, nigga, I ain't even trippin? nigga Me, I handle business, God's my only witness Watchin? homicide, sayin? "Who the fuck did this?" Me I run the street, mayne, so I keep the heat, mayne What you sow is what you reap, when you fuck with the elite, mayne I don't fuck around, boy, you better ask around, boy I hit you with the pound, leave yo' ass on the ground For? You poppin? that bullshit, like I don't pull shit Fully loaded clips and whips, get the grip, clip the bricks Nigga we hittin? licks, stickin? shit, gettin? rich That's why my name ring bells all around this bitch Any hood you go through they know 50 Cent (And I don't wanna talk about it, oh) I'm makin' millions quick and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I shoot a nigga kid and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I fuck the baddest bitches, I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I'm still flippin? chickens, I don't wan' talk about it (Yeah, it's the kid, nigga, yeah) Nah, I don't wanna talk about it Aiyyo, big money, my car got the big face, yeah Forty-five, my belt got the big eights Niggaz hate but I'm low seven star Caesar For grimy niggaz tryin? to line me like, ?Oh a preacher? You niggaz got the nerve, I'm at Johannesburg With Mandela nephew blowin? heavy herb Then back to the projects, low from the task force The dope spot's sellin? more shit than Scott Storch I'm tired of these pricks, lyin? 'bout bricks Got my can and my white, my tan like Mariah and Nick Fly in the '60 U.F.O. Unidentified flyin? object on twenty-fo's More money more hoes, more money, more clothes Smoke that AK-48, not bullshit 'dro, yeah I rock big arenas, not bullshit shows And my pants three thousand, these ain't bullshit clothes, oh I?m makin? millions quick and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I shoot a nigga kid and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I fuck the baddest bitches, I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I'm still flippin? chickens, I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it (Nah, uh) B A, N K, S 5, 5 0 Or 6 8, M G, tinted with my eyes low Homie, I'm a Tahoe, fully loaded nine blow You see out on hydro, Luciano blind hoe Louis V offended me, your bitch in my Bentley C And weekends are the chills, I'ma fuck her 'til she empty Empty on you if you front, 'til your passenger is stuck Give your ass a brand new scar, in need of a brand new car I ain't them, I'm different, baby, I talk, you listen, baby Listen and I'll show you, how money controls you I'll put you in my old school and let you pop the switch Pocketful in every packet, that's why I'm poppin? shit I don't forgive I don't forget, what you said, where you flip When you get hit, I hope that's it, pop-pop, all on your whip I-I, be on that shit, I'm high, I'm on that piff Bye-bye, you fuckin? bitch, you ain't hot, you ain't rich, you a snitch I?m makin? millions quick and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I shoot a nigga kid and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I fuck the baddest bitches, I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I'm still flippin? chickens, I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it |
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4:35 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
I don't wan' talk about it
(50) Man I don't wanna talk about it (Nah) Man I don't wan' talk about it (Yeah) And I don't wanna talk about it (Wooh) I?m makin? millions quick and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I shoot a nigga kid and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I fuck the baddest bitches, I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I'm still flippin? chickens, I don't wan' talk about it (These niggaz police) Nah, I don't wanna talk about it Go 'head, ask me what I'm ridin? in so I can say the Enzo My bitch roll down the window so I could feel the wind blow Got big enough for me to fiddle on my kinfolk Bitches with me cruisin?, Moulin Rougin' They fuckin? and they strippin?, nigga, I ain't even trippin? nigga Me, I handle business, God's my only witness Watchin? homicide, sayin? "Who the fuck did this?" Me I run the street, mayne, so I keep the heat, mayne What you sow is what you reap, when you fuck with the elite, mayne I don't fuck around, boy, you better ask around, boy I hit you with the pound, leave yo' ass on the ground For? You poppin? that bullshit, like I don't pull shit Fully loaded clips and whips, get the grip, clip the bricks Nigga we hittin? licks, stickin? shit, gettin? rich That's why my name ring bells all around this bitch Any hood you go through they know 50 Cent (And I don't wanna talk about it, oh) I'm makin' millions quick and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I shoot a nigga kid and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I fuck the baddest bitches, I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I'm still flippin? chickens, I don't wan' talk about it (Yeah, it's the kid, nigga, yeah) Nah, I don't wanna talk about it Aiyyo, big money, my car got the big face, yeah Forty-five, my belt got the big eights Niggaz hate but I'm low seven star Caesar For grimy niggaz tryin? to line me like, ?Oh a preacher? You niggaz got the nerve, I'm at Johannesburg With Mandela nephew blowin? heavy herb Then back to the projects, low from the task force The dope spot's sellin? more shit than Scott Storch I'm tired of these pricks, lyin? 'bout bricks Got my can and my white, my tan like Mariah and Nick Fly in the '60 U.F.O. Unidentified flyin? object on twenty-fo's More money more hoes, more money, more clothes Smoke that AK-48, not bullshit 'dro, yeah I rock big arenas, not bullshit shows And my pants three thousand, these ain't bullshit clothes, oh I?m makin? millions quick and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I shoot a nigga kid and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I fuck the baddest bitches, I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I'm still flippin? chickens, I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it (Nah, uh) B A, N K, S 5, 5 0 Or 6 8, M G, tinted with my eyes low Homie, I'm a Tahoe, fully loaded nine blow You see out on hydro, Luciano blind hoe Louis V offended me, your bitch in my Bentley C And weekends are the chills, I'ma fuck her 'til she empty Empty on you if you front, 'til your passenger is stuck Give your ass a brand new scar, in need of a brand new car I ain't them, I'm different, baby, I talk, you listen, baby Listen and I'll show you, how money controls you I'll put you in my old school and let you pop the switch Pocketful in every packet, that's why I'm poppin? shit I don't forgive I don't forget, what you said, where you flip When you get hit, I hope that's it, pop-pop, all on your whip I-I, be on that shit, I'm high, I'm on that piff Bye-bye, you fuckin? bitch, you ain't hot, you ain't rich, you a snitch I?m makin? millions quick and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I shoot a nigga kid and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I fuck the baddest bitches, I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I'm still flippin? chickens, I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it |
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4:09 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
I know I ain't supposed to smoke in here
But Mr. Bouncer man don't put your motherfuckin' hands on me Can I get high without you botherin' me? Everybody you see in here tonight Doin' the same thing so why you keep playa hatin' on me Can I get high without you botherin' me? [Chorus: x2] La la la la. I be smokin' It hitten me right I'll be loakin' Them bullshit trees you be rollin' Barely give you a buzz, me I get high I admit I got a problem, I keep comin' back for these Dodo bags there not your yak or your sack o' seeds I chill sit back on the sofa and relax my knees And roll one up loose enough to make the backwards breathe I blow a heavy load, you kids attract some G's. Cause I'm a smoker, too much o' this would choke ya' I don't mean to provoke ya, but I'm a bad influence The musician can't operate without his instruments My recent success gradually got your bitch convinced Haters mad they can't look inside cause I pitched the tints I enter the club with baggies of that chocolate Second-hand smoke will make a nigga wanna start shit. Sometimes I wonder where the niggas from the start went Raise up a lighter and fuck up the whole apartment. It's just one of the things I do in my spare time My bad habits ain't private so I'm gon' share mine. [Chorus: x2] See they put their hands out cause of the way shit been I say you niggers ain't smokin' if you don't chip in. Listen. I waited long for these rocks to glisten From that one-room pad without a pot to piss in Although betrayal is not forgiven I do this for my niggas locked up that's comin' home to lobster livin' Hopin' the cops forbiddin' I'm bout to buy momma her own mansion Just so I could see her pop the ribbon. That Cali bud's special, so special I held the blunt so long Snoop had to tell me "Pass the weed, Nephew" Fuck rap I'm the wrong one to get pissed off Cause the pope'll make you jump like criss cross. My nigga dead and it's hard to let go, So I'm blowin' on that wet dough, same color as Gecko Follow hood codes and everybody in the Sentinel We gas 'em Fuck 'em and Pass 'em what you expect hoe? [Chorus: x2] Said you want to blow with the best of them Yes yes I bested them Blazed up the purple palm tree I told you don't mess with them I warned them new testament Do you wanna smoke with me? (do you wanna) Weed rollin', G-strollin', bad-mouthin', mofucker Law breakin' Pimp, slappin niggas for the fuck of it Hip-hop an zip lock an rip rockin' gang banger Thought you was an actor, thought I was a singer Thought about ridin' but you say you wanna hang tough D-P-G-Unit sounds like danger You might wanna manage your anger Hang with us and stop smokin' on the same stuff Now lay back on the loft This new weed that I got I call it face-off Cause it'll blow your face off and that's a figure of speech, My niggas a beast, on me from the west to the east, preach [Chorus: x2] Sha da da |
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4:10 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
I know I ain't supposed to smoke in here
But Mr. Bouncer man don't put your motherfuckin' hands on me Can I get high without you botherin' me? Everybody you see in here tonight Doin' the same thing so why you keep playa hatin' on me Can I get high without you botherin' me? [Chorus: x2] La la la la. I be smokin' It hitten me right I'll be loakin' Them bullshit trees you be rollin' Barely give you a buzz, me I get high I admit I got a problem, I keep comin' back for these Dodo bags there not your yak or your sack o' seeds I chill sit back on the sofa and relax my knees And roll one up loose enough to make the backwards breathe I blow a heavy load, you kids attract some G's. Cause I'm a smoker, too much o' this would choke ya' I don't mean to provoke ya, but I'm a bad influence The musician can't operate without his instruments My recent success gradually got your bitch convinced Haters mad they can't look inside cause I pitched the tints I enter the club with baggies of that chocolate Second-hand smoke will make a nigga wanna start shit. Sometimes I wonder where the niggas from the start went Raise up a lighter and fuck up the whole apartment. It's just one of the things I do in my spare time My bad habits ain't private so I'm gon' share mine. [Chorus: x2] See they put their hands out cause of the way shit been I say you niggers ain't smokin' if you don't chip in. Listen. I waited long for these rocks to glisten From that one-room pad without a pot to piss in Although betrayal is not forgiven I do this for my niggas locked up that's comin' home to lobster livin' Hopin' the cops forbiddin' I'm bout to buy momma her own mansion Just so I could see her pop the ribbon. That Cali bud's special, so special I held the blunt so long Snoop had to tell me "Pass the weed, Nephew" Fuck rap I'm the wrong one to get pissed off Cause the pope'll make you jump like criss cross. My nigga dead and it's hard to let go, So I'm blowin' on that wet dough, same color as Gecko Follow hood codes and everybody in the Sentinel We gas 'em Fuck 'em and Pass 'em what you expect hoe? [Chorus: x2] Said you want to blow with the best of them Yes yes I bested them Blazed up the purple palm tree I told you don't mess with them I warned them new testament Do you wanna smoke with me? (do you wanna) Weed rollin', G-strollin', bad-mouthin', mofucker Law breakin' Pimp, slappin niggas for the fuck of it Hip-hop an zip lock an rip rockin' gang banger Thought you was an actor, thought I was a singer Thought about ridin' but you say you wanna hang tough D-P-G-Unit sounds like danger You might wanna manage your anger Hang with us and stop smokin' on the same stuff Now lay back on the loft This new weed that I got I call it face-off Cause it'll blow your face off and that's a figure of speech, My niggas a beast, on me from the west to the east, preach [Chorus: x2] Sha da da |
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3:58 |
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from G-Unit - I Like The Way She Do It [single] (2008)
I Like the Way she do it
I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do I Said I Like the Way she do it She put her back into it Then she drop it low to gets the doe I Like the Way she do it She put her back into it Let that ass drop like my 64 I Said I Like the Way she do it She put her back into it Then she drop it low to gets the doe I Like the Way she do it She put her back into it Let that ass drop like my 64 I suppose to blow you suppose to know Not to go against me or it R I P I'm stupid rich got retarded money I'm special wit it I got special bread It's easy now please believe me now I dismiss a hoe please leave me now I fuck when I want I do what I like She want the same shit I want the bitch is a dike She a super freak the freak of the week I give her something a suck she give her something to eat It never enough she like it rough We keep it going and we switch positions listen I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do I Said I Like the Way she do it She put her back into it Then she drop it low to gets the doe I Like the Way she do it She put her back into it Let that ass drop like my 64 I Said I Like the Way she do it She put her back into it Then she drop it low to gets the doe I Like the Way she do it She put her back into it Let that ass drop like my 64 I need a dollar for every time that my heart beat Now how much it that I can breath on a track and make money Now how much is that I'm getting money baby my truck a Lamborghini I'm in lebb where the girls are freaky Haters wanna be me hoes glad to see me Ma I love it when you lie & say my eyes are dreamy I'm in the club frontin I'm in the club stuntin 10 Grand to buy the bar Ma it ain't nothing If home girl wit it I'm get it hit it split it She'll think about me everyday hour minute Second to nobody baby check it you look as good as your chess And when your neck it I'm ready to fuck A little head in the truck If a turn gang good i'ma let her come up When the sun goes down I'll be back in the town Stash box down put the magnum down I'm with G Unit Nigga you not ballin a the G 2 jet I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it She got a nigga on the count down Waitin on it like Three two one Yea right now You got skills on them high heels When we leave this club I'm take you were I live Do me before I get her I might eat out depending on how I feel Baby girl got a thang for me She do what every I say and I ain't got to make it rain money Go getta and she ghetto with it Told shawty dont do it but she already did it I'm all on her back when she move like that You can find me where every she at like that I Said I Like the Way she do it She put her back into it Then she drop it low to gets the doe I Like the Way she do it She put her back into it Let that ass drop like my 64 I Said I Like the Way she do it She put her back into it Then she drop it low to gets the doe I Like the Way she do it She put her back into it Let that ass drop like my 64 |
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3:53 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
(Bridge) 50 Cent
I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it (Chorus) 50 Cent I Said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Then she drop it low, to gets the doe I said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Let that ass drop, like my '64 I Said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Then she drop it low, to gets the doe I said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Let that ass drop, like my '64 (Verse 1) Im suppose to blow, you suppose to know Not to go against me or it R.I.P I'm stupid rich, got retarded money I'm special Ed, I got special bread It's easy now, please believe me now I dismiss a hoe, bitch leave me now I f**k when I want, I do what I like She want the same chick I want, the bitch is a dike She a super freak, the freak of the week I give her something a suck, she give her something to eat It never enough, she like it rough We keep it going and we switch positions, listen (Bridge) 50 Cent I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it (Chorus) 50 Cent I Said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Then she drop it low, to gets the doe I said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Let that ass drop, like my '64 I Said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Then she drop it low, to gets the doe I said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Let that ass drop, like my '64 (Verse 2) Tony Yayo I need a dollar every time that my heart beat Now how much it that I can breath on a track and make money, ahha ahha Now how much is that I'm getting money baby, my truck a Lamborghini I'm in alli bb, where the girls are freaky Haters wanna be me, hoes glad to see me Ma I love it when you lie & say my eyes are dreamy dreamy Certain niggas fall inlove with a bitch, Patron in my dick i think i f**ked blood out a chick I'm in the club frontin, I'm in the club stuntin' 10 Grand to buy the bar, Ma it ain't nothing (Verse 3) Lloyd Banks If home girl wit it, I'm get it, hit it, split it She'll think about me everyday, hour, minute Second to nobody, baby check it you look as good as your chess And when your neck it, I'm ready to f**k A little head in the truck If a tung game good, i'ma let her come up When the sun goes down, I'll be back in the town Stash box down, put the magnum down I'm with G-Unit, C-U Net Nigga you not ballin a the G 2 jet I have it, do u wanna have it, do u need D OPE on the f**king CD its ME (Bridge) 50 Cent I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it (Verse 4) Young Buck She got a nigga on the count down Waitin on it like... Three, two, one Yea right now You got skills on them high heels When we leave this club, I'm take you were I live Do me before I get her I might eat out depending on how I feel Baby girl got a thang for me She do what every I say and I ain't got to make it rain money Go getta and she ghetto with it Told shawty dont do it, but she already did it I'm all on her back, when she move like that You can find me where every she at like yeahh (Chorus) 50 Cent I Said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Then she drop it low, to gets the doe I said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Let that ass drop, like my '64 I Said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Then she drop it low, to gets the doe I said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Let that ass drop, like my '64 |
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3:53 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
(Bridge) 50 Cent
I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it (Chorus) 50 Cent I Said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Then she drop it low, to gets the doe I said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Let that ass drop, like my '64 I Said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Then she drop it low, to gets the doe I said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Let that ass drop, like my '64 (Verse 1) Im suppose to blow, you suppose to know Not to go against me or it R.I.P I'm stupid rich, got retarded money I'm special Ed, I got special bread It's easy now, please believe me now I dismiss a hoe, bitch leave me now I f**k when I want, I do what I like She want the same chick I want, the bitch is a dike She a super freak, the freak of the week I give her something a suck, she give her something to eat It never enough, she like it rough We keep it going and we switch positions, listen (Bridge) 50 Cent I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it (Chorus) 50 Cent I Said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Then she drop it low, to gets the doe I said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Let that ass drop, like my '64 I Said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Then she drop it low, to gets the doe I said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Let that ass drop, like my '64 (Verse 2) Tony Yayo I need a dollar every time that my heart beat Now how much it that I can breath on a track and make money, ahha ahha Now how much is that I'm getting money baby, my truck a Lamborghini I'm in alli bb, where the girls are freaky Haters wanna be me, hoes glad to see me Ma I love it when you lie & say my eyes are dreamy dreamy Certain niggas fall inlove with a bitch, Patron in my dick i think i f**ked blood out a chick I'm in the club frontin, I'm in the club stuntin' 10 Grand to buy the bar, Ma it ain't nothing (Verse 3) Lloyd Banks If home girl wit it, I'm get it, hit it, split it She'll think about me everyday, hour, minute Second to nobody, baby check it you look as good as your chess And when your neck it, I'm ready to f**k A little head in the truck If a tung game good, i'ma let her come up When the sun goes down, I'll be back in the town Stash box down, put the magnum down I'm with G-Unit, C-U Net Nigga you not ballin a the G 2 jet I have it, do u wanna have it, do u need D OPE on the f**king CD its ME (Bridge) 50 Cent I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it (Verse 4) Young Buck She got a nigga on the count down Waitin on it like... Three, two, one Yea right now You got skills on them high heels When we leave this club, I'm take you were I live Do me before I get her I might eat out depending on how I feel Baby girl got a thang for me She do what every I say and I ain't got to make it rain money Go getta and she ghetto with it Told shawty dont do it, but she already did it I'm all on her back, when she move like that You can find me where every she at like yeahh (Chorus) 50 Cent I Said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Then she drop it low, to gets the doe I said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Let that ass drop, like my '64 I Said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Then she drop it low, to gets the doe I said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Let that ass drop, like my '64 |
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3:58 |
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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 Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008)
Whooo
Yea nigga ain't nothin changed G-units the motherfuckin gang Yayo these niggas thought I was over, like like a nigga fell off or something like like I don't get paid for this like like is you motherfuckin stupid Yea I'm a show you niggas how to stack, I'm cakin I get rid of you niggas by the pack, And I'd hate to come off like a sibliminal on a track, With the police listenin yea they watch us like that, So I stay on my one and twos even watch my numbers move, Why you think we in running shoes I ain't like them other dudes, I'm from queens where fathers leave in vile, And daughters havin babies cause they in style, We ain't have shit that's why don't smile, Neighborhoods fucked up that's why we all wild, Gutter just blew trial and L got 7 left, So I'm a stunt like hell, So I'm at heaven's steps, And 7 vest hammer proof vest in the sket, Niggas watchin my brain cause they ain't make nothin yet, I gotta little thin card when I go shop I swipe it and then cop then its right back to the block, Gotta swallow your pride hide and ask him to stop, Got the vision of Rakim and the passion of Pac, I'll put 2 in a goon they'll handle triggers everyday, And they all yellow bucks, Like the niggas in a grave ay blowing a O a day blowing the dro away, These niggas is little kids go in the stow and play, I get a girl a day, take all your fun away, So if you comin to beef bring a loaded K Yea ya niggas know what it is man ain't shit changed man ya forgot ya can't challenge me or something you bum ass niggas better stay as far away from me as possible man I'm on that new shit on that bullshit man straight up man fuck all the rap talk nigga you won't catch me at the motherfuckin red I'm on a green carpet nigga |
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4:00 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
[Intro - Lloyd Banks]
Yeah! Aye yo 50 They don't do it like us nigga Yeah! [Chorus] I'm so fly, I got money So that's good enough reason to buy the things I buy I'm so high, I'm on point And I could tell that your jealous just by the look in your eye And when I ride by I don't care, G-Unit's going straight to the top this year Nigga I'm so fly, I got money So that's good enough reason to buy the things I buy [Verse - Lloyd Banks] Uh, Banks is fresh out the gutter Too smooth to stutter The cig a melt a brother like two scoops of butter Before I leave the crib I tell my mother I love her Grab the burner But she ain't concerned 'cause he's a earner My bitch lays it out real nice for me to murder We fight, wake up and fuck like Ike and Tina Turner Its a privilege to ride with a celeb' 'Cause them girls over here don't got a problem giving head Paranoia is on ya', that's why ya' llama's in ya' bed Fuck some real Chinchilla, buy some Llama for ya' head Where the block I'm from Niggaz be damn near forty and still tucking And niggaz baby mama's is pregnant and still fucking It's either 'cause they boyfriends a scrub like Brillo 'Cause Banks is cooler than the other side of the pillow The chronic is blown For my niggaz that got locked up and deported And now they gotta go back home [Chorus] [Verse - Lloyd Banks] Don't confuse me with the suckers 'Cause when I spit, You'll hear more ?Oh's? Then a Skip-to my-Lou move at the Rucker Thank God for giving Banks the gift You think that bandana makes you look gangsta But all I see is a handkerchief Nigga there's no one out the click that freezes Believe that, 'cause I ain't scared a shit but Jesus Look dog, I don't run with the poodles Difference is, I'm eating in Rome and you eating Roman Noodles Ya' boy is corrupt kid Banks a send a bitch to the store Just for a piece of cheesecake like Puff did You chumps can't afford these homes Look around I got forty clones Now look down, that's forty stones And that's only in the necklace I'm bony and I'm wreck lace It's Tony in a Lexus I'm fresh out the gutter, scrap what ya' man thought I'm in the hood with more straps than a Jan sport [Chorus] [Verse - Lloyd Banks] When I travel I know I'm gon' get stuck 'Cause they harass us in the airport Like I'm the one that's blowing shit up I got the patience of a High School teacher And a bright future Why the fuck would I have a bum on my sneaker? All the goodie girls back off us My hearts colder then Jack Frost's We pack shows and attract bosses Black clothes with my black Forces A black rose for a rats coffin I'm blowing O's of that black coughing Blow on the road then I'm back flossing No one knows how much that's costing Fuck ass, only the green moves me I got a clean Uzi A pair of gloves and a mask from the Scream movie So if you plotting on popping off, then scheme smoothly Or get a little red splatter on ya' cream Coogi My name ring each state So you ain't gotta go all the way to L.A. to get ya MC ate [Chorus] |
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4:00 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
[Intro - Lloyd Banks]
Yeah! Aye yo 50 They don't do it like us nigga Yeah! [Chorus] I'm so fly, I got money So that's good enough reason to buy the things I buy I'm so high, I'm on point And I could tell that your jealous just by the look in your eye And when I ride by I don't care, G-Unit's going straight to the top this year Nigga I'm so fly, I got money So that's good enough reason to buy the things I buy [Verse - Lloyd Banks] Uh, Banks is fresh out the gutter Too smooth to stutter The cig a melt a brother like two scoops of butter Before I leave the crib I tell my mother I love her Grab the burner But she ain't concerned 'cause he's a earner My bitch lays it out real nice for me to murder We fight, wake up and fuck like Ike and Tina Turner Its a privilege to ride with a celeb' 'Cause them girls over here don't got a problem giving head Paranoia is on ya', that's why ya' llama's in ya' bed Fuck some real Chinchilla, buy some Llama for ya' head Where the block I'm from Niggaz be damn near forty and still tucking And niggaz baby mama's is pregnant and still fucking It's either 'cause they boyfriends a scrub like Brillo 'Cause Banks is cooler than the other side of the pillow The chronic is blown For my niggaz that got locked up and deported And now they gotta go back home [Chorus] [Verse - Lloyd Banks] Don't confuse me with the suckers 'Cause when I spit, You'll hear more ?Oh's? Then a Skip-to my-Lou move at the Rucker Thank God for giving Banks the gift You think that bandana makes you look gangsta But all I see is a handkerchief Nigga there's no one out the click that freezes Believe that, 'cause I ain't scared a shit but Jesus Look dog, I don't run with the poodles Difference is, I'm eating in Rome and you eating Roman Noodles Ya' boy is corrupt kid Banks a send a bitch to the store Just for a piece of cheesecake like Puff did You chumps can't afford these homes Look around I got forty clones Now look down, that's forty stones And that's only in the necklace I'm bony and I'm wreck lace It's Tony in a Lexus I'm fresh out the gutter, scrap what ya' man thought I'm in the hood with more straps than a Jan sport [Chorus] [Verse - Lloyd Banks] When I travel I know I'm gon' get stuck 'Cause they harass us in the airport Like I'm the one that's blowing shit up I got the patience of a High School teacher And a bright future Why the fuck would I have a bum on my sneaker? All the goodie girls back off us My hearts colder then Jack Frost's We pack shows and attract bosses Black clothes with my black Forces A black rose for a rats coffin I'm blowing O's of that black coughing Blow on the road then I'm back flossing No one knows how much that's costing Fuck ass, only the green moves me I got a clean Uzi A pair of gloves and a mask from the Scream movie So if you plotting on popping off, then scheme smoothly Or get a little red splatter on ya' cream Coogi My name ring each state So you ain't gotta go all the way to L.A. to get ya MC ate [Chorus] |
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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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| from The Game - Charge It To The Game/ The Mixtape (2005) | |||||
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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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3:31 |
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| from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004) | |||||
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3:31 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
[Lloyd Banks]
Around here them boys, them don't play You can hear the sound of gunspray e'ryday I give two fucks bout what a bird say Playboy Don do t'ings er' way I'm rap's LeBron, Teflon Don Baguettes on arm, the next Sean, John By any means I protect my charm Blade'll bubble you up, like Moet, Chandon I'm only calm, when I'm blowin that chron' Gettin them flashbacks like baby hold onnnnn I never thought I'd sweat so long And re-enact the scene of my ghetto song Eyes wanderin off, breath all gone Stomach all swoll up, neck all warm Head still spinnin off that Seagram and vodka And you know who shot ya, bitch get the doctor! [Chorus: Lloyd Banks] (If you so gangsta) Then why you tuck your chain in when you walk in the club (And if you so gangsta) Why you a grown man, still gettin your pockets dug (If you so gangsta) Then how come everytime you get into beef you tell (And if you so gangsta) Why niggaz know you for that in the street so well [Lloyd Banks] Now every now and then, a new kid gotta win Yeah - but unfortunately for you, I'm him (I'm sorry!) In my new tan trucks with the blue dot end Hoppin out that big truck with the new wide rim While you cramped up, on your Jet Blue ride in We air the G-4, let the crew dive in Before Lloyd Banks tail pop on sale I feed a nigga a shell like Taco Bell I'm flyin out to Japan to attract new fans Let 'em get to know the man with the tattooed hands Them gem stars'll leave your face all fat So learn to stash yours in your baseball cap I'm either gettin money out of state or off rap So I'm tryin to figure out what made Ma$e fall back And them niggaz in New York know the man is a monster And I ain't from Atlanta but I A-Town stomp ya muh'fucker [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] It's like everywhere I look and, everywhere I go It's a bitch sayin somethin slick, but you can suck my dick I'm grade A nigga, you don't know who you fuckin with They run up on your ass, you'll think you drunk your lip Now I got money bags as big as a pumpkin get And pistol as long as the hand Shaq dunkin with I ain't the type that's desperate I'm modelin diamonds now, you can call me +Icin+ Beckford (ow!) My down bitch holds the metal, she got a Coke bottle figure And a ass that's shaped like a bowl of Jell-o You ain't even almost rich They fuckin yo' ass, like the models in my porno flicks Therefore you can't afford no 6 So before you hop your ass on camera get your wardrobe fixed Banks don't house, want no bitch, so if there's five of her Then she probably gon' suck 4 more dicks [Chorus] |
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| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
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| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
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3:30 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
Man what the fuck are you lookin' for?
Can't a young nigga make money any more Blow a couple grand in the N-B-A Store Rock twenty-four thousand on the N-B-A floor Niggas be on stage bendin' over on tour Leave anti-social with a case of lockjaw 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 niggas 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 with my ? works 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, yeah! [Chorus] Just another day, chillin' in the hood Just another day around the way I'm tipsy off the Hennessy We ridin' round with the H-K, 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 Never mind 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 niggas 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 X-X-L you been in as a shirt And, speakin' of shirts, get a new white T God damn it feels good to be me, nigga! [Chorus] 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' niggas 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! [Chorus] |
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4:38 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
[Chorus]
I am the one you denied Brushed me off every time tried But I'm alright I'm able to swallow my pride And put all the bullshit to the side If you ready to ride I'm down for a one night stand I'll accept it any way that I can 'cause I ain't yo man I'll try for whatever its worth Just remember who played who first I can't keep my eyes off ya I can tell why them other guys lost ya The kinds red an a flying saucer That's what I can offer Similarities and characters Haven't ya heard the word around town How I get down? They all whistle Everybody part official An that ass was you Got my dick hard as a missile Don't hop on top 'cause I ride around with a pistol N if they pull us over ill be out of town wit an issue If you was mine id introduce you to momma girl Your styling your moves n your nirvana I'm so used to you're Prada Taking trips to Houston its hotta Throwing that Al Green n using that impala Lay my jewels on my collar Ya had me feeling like a fool when I holla'd Trying to squeeze in but you wouldn't bother But I ain't either Soon as I realize that I ain't either She in a rush to get close to me but I ain't eager [Chorus] Like I don't mean to bother you But your sex appeal is remarkable You make a G wanna walk around in a park with you There ain't no telling what kinda things that I'm a start to do If I get wrapped up on your ass to fast I can tell you feel the same 'cause when I ask you laugh So I'm a leave it at that n hint n put it in my math I imagine your prolly twice as good in a bath But I'm buggin' 'cause I can see you right in the hood when I pass I'm never stapled 'cause business is on my ass But you can be the one I visit before I dash An I admit I been the type to hit n split But you can blame me for the females that I been getting with 'cause most of these broads have there eyes on my grits Till they're in deeper shit n they learn how to be satisfied with the dick an' N if you ain't worth it then that's all you get I ain't gonna blame you I'm gonna blame them tricks 'cause [Chorus] You seem like your attitude Only appears when I'm mad at you In several situations n that includes When I'm gone to long ridin' through them avenues As soon as I get home this room is a scattered boos You know my fantasies and my feeling things at camera speed N you're girlfriends trying to sandwich me My hearts colder then ya sandwich meat 'cause I come from the hood where the hammers be I move fast but at a switch pace N I pop in a Listerine strip before you get all up on a bitch face Moving your body like this Gonna make me blow like a bottle of cris I don't know no one hotter then twis You got my temperature risin' from your hips to you're thighs an That glare in your eyes that brighten up her horizon It comes naturally I don't bribe em Its easy as, 1, 2, 3 n I slide em [Chorus] |
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4:39 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
[Chorus]
I am the one you denied Brushed me off every time tried But I'm alright I'm able to swallow my pride And put all the bullshit to the side If you ready to ride I'm down for a one night stand I'll accept it any way that I can 'cause I ain't yo man I'll try for whatever its worth Just remember who played who first I can't keep my eyes off ya I can tell why them other guys lost ya The kinds red an a flying saucer That's what I can offer Similarities and characters Haven't ya heard the word around town How I get down? They all whistle Everybody part official An that ass was you Got my dick hard as a missile Don't hop on top 'cause I ride around with a pistol N if they pull us over ill be out of town wit an issue If you was mine id introduce you to momma girl Your styling your moves n your nirvana I'm so used to you're Prada Taking trips to Houston its hotta Throwing that Al Green n using that impala Lay my jewels on my collar Ya had me feeling like a fool when I holla'd Trying to squeeze in but you wouldn't bother But I ain't either Soon as I realize that I ain't either She in a rush to get close to me but I ain't eager [Chorus] Like I don't mean to bother you But your sex appeal is remarkable You make a G wanna walk around in a park with you There ain't no telling what kinda things that I'm a start to do If I get wrapped up on your ass to fast I can tell you feel the same 'cause when I ask you laugh So I'm a leave it at that n hint n put it in my math I imagine your prolly twice as good in a bath But I'm buggin' 'cause I can see you right in the hood when I pass I'm never stapled 'cause business is on my ass But you can be the one I visit before I dash An I admit I been the type to hit n split But you can blame me for the females that I been getting with 'cause most of these broads have there eyes on my grits Till they're in deeper shit n they learn how to be satisfied with the dick an' N if you ain't worth it then that's all you get I ain't gonna blame you I'm gonna blame them tricks 'cause [Chorus] You seem like your attitude Only appears when I'm mad at you In several situations n that includes When I'm gone to long ridin' through them avenues As soon as I get home this room is a scattered boos You know my fantasies and my feeling things at camera speed N you're girlfriends trying to sandwich me My hearts colder then ya sandwich meat 'cause I come from the hood where the hammers be I move fast but at a switch pace N I pop in a Listerine strip before you get all up on a bitch face Moving your body like this Gonna make me blow like a bottle of cris I don't know no one hotter then twis You got my temperature risin' from your hips to you're thighs an That glare in your eyes that brighten up her horizon It comes naturally I don't bribe em Its easy as, 1, 2, 3 n I slide em [Chorus] |
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| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
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3:49 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
[50 Cent] + (Tony Yayo)
(Yeah, yeah) Yeah (G-UNIT!!) My Polo on (check) my Dolce on (check) It's my crew and Polow Da Don I get that kitty ma (yeah!) I get that cash boo Shake that kitty girl, shake that ass hoe! [Chorus: woman] Owww, I need cash for my kitty cat Owww, I need cash for my kitty cat Owww, I need cash for my kitty cat [TY] Well girl I get pussy for free, I'm hittin that Owww, I need cash for my kitty cat Owww, I need cash for my kitty cat Owww, I need cash for my kitty cat [50] But bitch I get pussy for free, I'm hittin that [Tony Yayo] Big boy Bentley, big boy semi Niggaz wanna kill me, ain't worth nigga pennies I drop a bag off, and the uz' will spray you I need six pockets like a pool table These hoes love me, these hoes love my pimpin They in the Phantom, clickin on they Cablevision Dope, I got the Chef Boyardee bags Coke, I got it runnin out the rehab Hoes like, "Why he actin so Hollywood? Cause there's a chauffeur in his 300 Hollywood" I'm hot, no ghostwriter for the mic Basically the Hollywood writer on strike, YEAH! [Chorus] [50 Cent] She got what I want, want (uh-huh) She got what I need, need (that's right) She rollin my blunt, blunt (yeah) Bitch hand me my weed, weed... {*growls*} I'm so ghetto, I'm so, I'm so ghetto On the low, I creeps, I moves with my metal I be's in the club with my burner like WHAT I done did so much dirt, I ain't tryin to get CUT I'm a bad boy, that bad boy they wan' fuck with They like that black on black rims on the Caddy truck kid I make that hard white flip, nigga since "Get Rich" My jewels so sick, they talk to a bitch Like, get in get in! You and your friend He sold ten mil' twice, he fin' to do it again ALL ABOARD! Bitch don't miss the train 50 that nigga, fuck wrong with yo' brain, huh? [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] I don't pay for kitten, are ya kiddin? Well it's the kid A.K.A., in and out your sister's crib Mr. So Fly, I O.D. the stores My car damn near fly, it got eagle doors Before you see me off, you'll see hell freeze You got a V-12? I got 12 V's It's only so many months, you do the math I'm a smoker, it's so many blunts for you to pass on me Girl you crazy, got on B.B., rollin And your mouth'll be, foamin if I keep, keep goin You might see, me, frozen cause I'm holdin I done told 'em If yo' game can't control 'em, then she's as good as stolen [Chorus] |
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3:49 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
[50 Cent] + (Tony Yayo)
(Yeah, yeah) Yeah (G-UNIT!!) My Polo on (check) my Dolce on (check) It's my crew and Polow Da Don I get that kitty ma (yeah!) I get that cash boo Shake that kitty girl, shake that ass hoe! [Chorus: woman] Owww, I need cash for my kitty cat Owww, I need cash for my kitty cat Owww, I need cash for my kitty cat [TY] Well girl I get pussy for free, I'm hittin that Owww, I need cash for my kitty cat Owww, I need cash for my kitty cat Owww, I need cash for my kitty cat [50] But bitch I get pussy for free, I'm hittin that [Tony Yayo] Big boy Bentley, big boy semi Niggaz wanna kill me, ain't worth nigga pennies I drop a bag off, and the uz' will spray you I need six pockets like a pool table These hoes love me, these hoes love my pimpin They in the Phantom, clickin on they Cablevision Dope, I got the Chef Boyardee bags Coke, I got it runnin out the rehab Hoes like, "Why he actin so Hollywood? Cause there's a chauffeur in his 300 Hollywood" I'm hot, no ghostwriter for the mic Basically the Hollywood writer on strike, YEAH! [Chorus] [50 Cent] She got what I want, want (uh-huh) She got what I need, need (that's right) She rollin my blunt, blunt (yeah) Bitch hand me my weed, weed... {*growls*} I'm so ghetto, I'm so, I'm so ghetto On the low, I creeps, I moves with my metal I be's in the club with my burner like WHAT I done did so much dirt, I ain't tryin to get CUT I'm a bad boy, that bad boy they wan' fuck with They like that black on black rims on the Caddy truck kid I make that hard white flip, nigga since "Get Rich" My jewels so sick, they talk to a bitch Like, get in get in! You and your friend He sold ten mil' twice, he fin' to do it again ALL ABOARD! Bitch don't miss the train 50 that nigga, fuck wrong with yo' brain, huh? [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] I don't pay for kitten, are ya kiddin? Well it's the kid A.K.A., in and out your sister's crib Mr. So Fly, I O.D. the stores My car damn near fly, it got eagle doors Before you see me off, you'll see hell freeze You got a V-12? I got 12 V's It's only so many months, you do the math I'm a smoker, it's so many blunts for you to pass on me Girl you crazy, got on B.B., rollin And your mouth'll be, foamin if I keep, keep goin You might see, me, frozen cause I'm holdin I done told 'em If yo' game can't control 'em, then she's as good as stolen [Chorus] |
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from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008)
You can call me big truck Banks, or Lamborghini Lloyd,
Ferrari F-50 made me one rich boy, Niggaz ain't sayin nothin just alotta slick noise, I got silencers for that, them rubber grip toys, Over twenty hoes that do what I say so, Fight ova me like them bitches on the Flava Flav show, I don't smoke 'em up this is major grade dro, The flows tight like Bathing Ape clothes, I'm in and out the I city got state to state shows, Just in case you wonderin if I'ma make the states know, They tryin to lock a niggas so the kid stay low, Indictments is the only thing the pigs pray for, I pop up in the Vanguish the two doo, nigga, It's green white like a blue nose pit, The shoes don't fit, I got a few more hits, That mean brand new houses and U-Haul trips, And my mama's so proud she could do 4 flips, If you jeopardize that, you can rest in peace, When H died I felt it in my chest for weeks, All I got is my word, my crew my vest and heat, So what you wanna do, I'm right in fronna you, I'll make the ambulance pick up every onna you, Then I'll be back next week yeah I'm comin through, Makin my way to the dance floor to do my 1 and 2, What it do, you know me just chillin, Thinkin bout what Ima do after I sell 5 million, The elevator stops at a very high buildin, Let's just say I'm smart, at this playa art, I heard all the talk but refused to play a part, In beefin wit a nigga that was on change of heart, I spun the wheel of fortune got the Vanna White Challenger, Still on the stage with the hammer like Gallager, I'm a hood nigga got a hundred goons wild at ya, That'll take ya head off, smooth as excalaber, Nigga, I ain't ya ordinary I'm betta, Kevlar sweater'll keep a nigga togetha, It's still mandatory that we see the chedda, I'm grimey, I'm greasey a GT or betta, Whateva, you could put the house on Cris, That's why ya bitch wanna put her mouth on this. |
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4:03 |
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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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3:06 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
I gangsta
Let it go I'm a gangsta I'm a gangsta for life I'm a gangsta Real gangsta, let it go I'm a gangsta (Yeah) I'm a gangsta for life (Yeah) I'm a gangsta (Come on) Real gangsta, let it go (G, G, G, G you know) Uh, the game took a turn crazy, it's all gravy Thanks to 50 Cent and Shady, they gon' play me These lil' niggaz can't fade me, they just babies Play me and I'm crazy, I'm Tom Brady Emeralds and baguettes when I'm hoppin? up off the jet A nigga reach for that and I'm choppin? him in his neck One big remix and she'll be on my penis If my flow had a phoenix and my paws are the cleanest 9-millimeters in the bars and arenas If you hood then you seen us with wood in the Beamers I'm that new nigga, they all over Adidas When they see us they don't charge that shit, they wanna be us (Let it go) When we pressed to go, body restin? up They wan' mop up all that blood but he's testin? us The moon eclipse, is a mess and ah We'll compose the new and then test it oh (Let it go) I'm a gangsta I'm a gangsta for life I'm a gangsta Don't fuck around and start some fight (Yeah, yeah, let it go) I'm Marvin Bernard, hip-hop goin? hard Feds ran in the crib, squad all in my yard I'm the high school dropout, crack game genius The mac'll turn your back into Kill Bill arenas I'm criminal minded, you've been blinded Feds lookin? for my bricks but can't find it Maneuver with the Ruger, the grip is rubber My Frank Mueller, is dipped in them rainbow colors Bein? broke is a disease, I need that guap and that cheddar I learned that, in the Maybach with Fif' and Mayweather Mix the milk with Amaretta, my beretta's in my leather My tiger striped eagle make your people need weather (Let it go) When we pressed to go, body restin? up They wan' mop up all that blood but he's testin? us The moon eclipse, is a mess and ah We'll compose the new and then test it oh (Let it go) When we pressed to go, body restin? up They wan' mop up all that blood but he's testin? us The moon eclipse, is a mess and ah We'll compose the new and then test it oh (Let it go) I'm a gangsta I'm a gangsta for life I'm a gangsta Don't fuck around and start some fight I want to dance I'm reachin? up and huh |
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3:06 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
I gangsta
Let it go I'm a gangsta I'm a gangsta for life I'm a gangsta Real gangsta, let it go I'm a gangsta (Yeah) I'm a gangsta for life (Yeah) I'm a gangsta (Come on) Real gangsta, let it go (G, G, G, G you know) Uh, the game took a turn crazy, it's all gravy Thanks to 50 Cent and Shady, they gon' play me These lil' niggaz can't fade me, they just babies Play me and I'm crazy, I'm Tom Brady Emeralds and baguettes when I'm hoppin? up off the jet A nigga reach for that and I'm choppin? him in his neck One big remix and she'll be on my penis If my flow had a phoenix and my paws are the cleanest 9-millimeters in the bars and arenas If you hood then you seen us with wood in the Beamers I'm that new nigga, they all over Adidas When they see us they don't charge that shit, they wanna be us (Let it go) When we pressed to go, body restin? up They wan' mop up all that blood but he's testin? us The moon eclipse, is a mess and ah We'll compose the new and then test it oh (Let it go) I'm a gangsta I'm a gangsta for life I'm a gangsta Don't fuck around and start some fight (Yeah, yeah, let it go) I'm Marvin Bernard, hip-hop goin? hard Feds ran in the crib, squad all in my yard I'm the high school dropout, crack game genius The mac'll turn your back into Kill Bill arenas I'm criminal minded, you've been blinded Feds lookin? for my bricks but can't find it Maneuver with the Ruger, the grip is rubber My Frank Mueller, is dipped in them rainbow colors Bein? broke is a disease, I need that guap and that cheddar I learned that, in the Maybach with Fif' and Mayweather Mix the milk with Amaretta, my beretta's in my leather My tiger striped eagle make your people need weather (Let it go) When we pressed to go, body restin? up They wan' mop up all that blood but he's testin? us The moon eclipse, is a mess and ah We'll compose the new and then test it oh (Let it go) When we pressed to go, body restin? up They wan' mop up all that blood but he's testin? us The moon eclipse, is a mess and ah We'll compose the new and then test it oh (Let it go) I'm a gangsta I'm a gangsta for life I'm a gangsta Don't fuck around and start some fight I want to dance I'm reachin? up and huh |
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3:23 |
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from 2Pac - Loyal To The Game (2004)
(2Pac)
Now I've got to ask, on a nigga's ass, tell me will they blast me? I think of an alias in case these crooked bitches ask me Now, it's gettin crazy after dark, these narcs be like tryin to shut me down but I'm too smart Now picture me scared of the penitentiary I've been movin these things since the days of elementary Now tell me what you need when you see me I'm stackin G's, buyin all the things on TV, believe me I got some killas on my payroll, and they know When it's time to handle business, nigga lay low Although I'm young, I'm still comin up I'm gettin paid, pullin raises on niggas when they runnin up The first to pull a strap when there's drama Busta, you ain't heard? I've been slicin motherfuckerss since I lost my momma There ain't a cop that can stop me My posse is cocked, G, and they don't quit until they drop me I'm loyal to the game (Chorus) (Treach) Without no doubt I ain't no slouch and it ain't time to back down So I jumps in and try to stop-a and watch-a Slap you cock-eyed like Popeye fucks spinach Forgotten more shit than most crews ever know, or ever knew Was born with 7 flows and only heaven knew For beat the boot sex, the news breaks, the you shakes Worse, they heard we got more nerve than a 2-fake Yoo-hoo to you crew and you too so you knew I'm from Jersey and I'm a teen so your block more than you do Whose the new crew? Show me your neck brotha, and here's another Smack your mother's mamma's mother In the first mob of all those other crack lovers Back was bitch-ass, trick ass, cluk-clow-cluk-clow How ya like me then, how ya like me, hey-ho, how ya like me now? Ow, pow, hurt, don't it? Bow, bow, don't run up on it The same thing minus P hangin possies like an exponent Oh yes, rock in slums, ya gots to run it It makes no sense to smell like shit If old ass George could be Washing-tons (Chorus) (Riddler) Now I be loyal to my niggas on the blocks, just buckin the shots And packin the glocks and dodgin the cops, and takin over niggas spots Poppin after poppin the fools be droppin, the hoes be hoppin On my thing cause it hangs like the nets from Above the Rim You lookin grim, is it me or him or him Or be with me, we be together So what's up? We can do whatever Cause real niggas stick together Till they make it up to heaven Through the stress, through the hell, through the 1-8-7 The shorter the nigga, the bigga the trigga The deeper they dig the ditch-a The Naughty the Treach then through to the Pac I brings the glock I wets up You fuckin body, I'm like, Oh my Gody Did I really shoot him? Yo I shot him So got him, now I puts the crime behind me And finds me, a place to lays my head low I lives doin my rap, but I dies for my hood row So all you fuckin fools better recognize, and know my fuckin name I be Riddler to my niggas and I'm loyal to the game (Chorus) |
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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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| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
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4:14 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
Money make the world go ?round
Money make the world go ?round Money make the world go ?round New York, money make the world go ?round L.A., money make the world go ?round Midwest, money make the world go ?round Down South, money make the world go ?round Southside, money make the world go ?round Some people want nothin? out of life And some people want it all Some people ain't livin? life right But fast money make God call I'm prayin? to the angels but worship the devils Yeah, a nigga rich but I'm livin? like a rebel Ridin? with my strap on, foot on the pedal Them silly beef raps, now they on another level, level I grew up on a crop side, the New York Southside Stayin? alive was no jive Standin? on the strip you get stuck like Velcro Jake jump out, you see heads and elbows Run, nigga, run, nigga, here they come, nigga Throw that pack nigga, toss that trigger Kid, I'm still in the P's, girl, I love the Audi If yo' ass pregnant, girl, leave the party My stashbox so big, it could move the shotty God, it ain't my fault if I shoot somebody I ain't in it to lose, I'm in it to win Sex, money, murder, take the safety off my sins, yeah Money make the world go ?round, you better get it Money cause hatred as soon as you get it Money make whores, money cause wars Money make the world go ?round so get yours Yeah, money make the world go ?round and I got her Buckle down, do anything for the dollar Enough bills'll make your blood spill Kill for bread, anyone will from Queens to Gun Hill I'm one man but I own more than one steel Shiny trey-pound, black 9-mil Magucci leather got me shoe crazy Quarter mil' vehicle and I'm a oops, baby And if I'm wearin? my chain it's 380 Like Fat Joe, nigga, you crazy? Man, fuck friends, this T-dot-O-dot-S Have it how you want, speed knot or pop chess Police stompin? niggaz by the twenty And shootin? by the fifty, ain't a damn thing funny Matter fact, man, I'ma do anything for the dough N.Y.'s finest with llamas and mo' Money make the world go ?round, you better get it Money cause hatred as soon as you get it Money make whores, money cause wars Money make the world go ?round so get yours Money make the world go ?round, you better get it Money cause hatred as soon as you get it Money make whores, money cause wars Money make the world go ?round so get yours ATL, money make the world go ?round Ca$hville, money make the world go ?round N.C., money make the world go ?round Bad News, money make the world go ?round I love that money, I need that money It gives me shelter, it's there when I'm hungry It feeds my kids, it fills my fridge It pays my bills and the mortgage on the crib It keeps me icy, it make hoes like me It gives me seats at the Garden next to Spike Lee It made me rich, it made me change I seen a lot of places and bought a lot of things You got me haters, you got me drama You paid for the lawyers, you paid for the llamas You make niggaz goners, you rule all the corners When somebody dies, you gotta pay the mourners, mourners Money make the world go ?round, you better get it Money cause hatred as soon as you get it Money make whores, money cause wars Money make the world go ?round so get yours Money make the world go ?round, you better get it Money cause hatred as soon as you get it Money make whores, money cause wars Money make the world go ?round so get yours Chi-Town, money make the world go ?round Oakland, money make the world go ?round Texas, money make the world go ?round Detroit, money make the world go ?round Bed-Stuy, money make the world go ?round Southside, money make the world go ?round Harlem, money make the world go ?round B-X, money make the world go ?round Staten Island, money make the world go ?round Long Island, money make the world go ?round Rhode Island, money make the world go ?round Maryland, money make the world go ?round D.C., money make the world go ?round Baltimore, money make the world go ?round Little Rock, money make the world go ?round Minnesota, money make the world go ?round Arizona, money make the world go ?round |
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4:14 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
Money make the world go ?round
Money make the world go ?round Money make the world go ?round New York, money make the world go ?round L.A., money make the world go ?round Midwest, money make the world go ?round Down South, money make the world go ?round Southside, money make the world go ?round Some people want nothin? out of life And some people want it all Some people ain't livin? life right But fast money make God call I'm prayin? to the angels but worship the devils Yeah, a nigga rich but I'm livin? like a rebel Ridin? with my strap on, foot on the pedal Them silly beef raps, now they on another level, level I grew up on a crop side, the New York Southside Stayin? alive was no jive Standin? on the strip you get stuck like Velcro Jake jump out, you see heads and elbows Run, nigga, run, nigga, here they come, nigga Throw that pack nigga, toss that trigger Kid, I'm still in the P's, girl, I love the Audi If yo' ass pregnant, girl, leave the party My stashbox so big, it could move the shotty God, it ain't my fault if I shoot somebody I ain't in it to lose, I'm in it to win Sex, money, murder, take the safety off my sins, yeah Money make the world go ?round, you better get it Money cause hatred as soon as you get it Money make whores, money cause wars Money make the world go ?round so get yours Yeah, money make the world go ?round and I got her Buckle down, do anything for the dollar Enough bills'll make your blood spill Kill for bread, anyone will from Queens to Gun Hill I'm one man but I own more than one steel Shiny trey-pound, black 9-mil Magucci leather got me shoe crazy Quarter mil' vehicle and I'm a oops, baby And if I'm wearin? my chain it's 380 Like Fat Joe, nigga, you crazy? Man, fuck friends, this T-dot-O-dot-S Have it how you want, speed knot or pop chess Police stompin? niggaz by the twenty And shootin? by the fifty, ain't a damn thing funny Matter fact, man, I'ma do anything for the dough N.Y.'s finest with llamas and mo' Money make the world go ?round, you better get it Money cause hatred as soon as you get it Money make whores, money cause wars Money make the world go ?round so get yours Money make the world go ?round, you better get it Money cause hatred as soon as you get it Money make whores, money cause wars Money make the world go ?round so get yours ATL, money make the world go ?round Ca$hville, money make the world go ?round N.C., money make the world go ?round Bad News, money make the world go ?round I love that money, I need that money It gives me shelter, it's there when I'm hungry It feeds my kids, it fills my fridge It pays my bills and the mortgage on the crib It keeps me icy, it make hoes like me It gives me seats at the Garden next to Spike Lee It made me rich, it made me change I seen a lot of places and bought a lot of things You got me haters, you got me drama You paid for the lawyers, you paid for the llamas You make niggaz goners, you rule all the corners When somebody dies, you gotta pay the mourners, mourners Money make the world go ?round, you better get it Money cause hatred as soon as you get it Money make whores, money cause wars Money make the world go ?round so get yours Money make the world go ?round, you better get it Money cause hatred as soon as you get it Money make whores, money cause wars Money make the world go ?round so get yours Chi-Town, money make the world go ?round Oakland, money make the world go ?round Texas, money make the world go ?round Detroit, money make the world go ?round Bed-Stuy, money make the world go ?round Southside, money make the world go ?round Harlem, money make the world go ?round B-X, money make the world go ?round Staten Island, money make the world go ?round Long Island, money make the world go ?round Rhode Island, money make the world go ?round Maryland, money make the world go ?round D.C., money make the world go ?round Baltimore, money make the world go ?round Little Rock, money make the world go ?round Minnesota, money make the world go ?round Arizona, money make the world go ?round |
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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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from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008)
(Intro: Lloyd Banks) (50 Cent)
People! Your boy Banks is back! And this is a Timbaland track! WOO OOOH!!!! This is my house (I'll house you) bitch I run this (Girl I'll house you) This is my house (I'll house you, you in my house now) (Chorus) Lloyd Banks) (50 Cent) This is my house you 'gon do what I tell you to do When your in my house under my roof you follow my rules This is my house (Put ya hands up! Put ya put ya put ya put ya put ya hands up!) This is my house (I'll house you, girl you in my house now) (Verse 1: Lloyd Banks) Hey, your under my roof, so take off your coat, your hat and funny boots I can't tell you they names, I just know they loose Prefer mix the Cranberry and the Goose A little Armor and that's at least a hundred proof Now shorty's eyes wide from the Bentley and the Coupes She can't stop stealin so she trippin off the stoop And I'm a beware of mine no tellin the truth Let's run a menage trois and hit the booth I got a big pool and a room full of bathing suits See y'all can go swim, while I get in I'll show you how to make a million dollars with a pen I drink champagne and pop bottles when I spin I can't complain a top model's in the Benz Her wheels is shinnin like it's diamonds in the rims Just gimme a day or two I'm climbin in her friends I do what I do cause (Chorus) Lloyd Banks) (50 Cent) This is my house you 'gon do what I tell you to do When your in my house under my roof you follow my rules This is my house (Put ya hands up! Put ya put ya put ya put ya put ya hands up!) This is my house (I'll house you, girl you in my house now) (Verse 2: Lloyd Banks) Hey! Watch how you speak Cause I don't slip or squeak I got the heat If you get outta line, you'll be in the street Ambulance man tryin to cover up the leak And nobody to care if they get you in a week I rather go there split a swisher with a freak And get a lap dance while I listen to the beat She's a beauty and petite I can lift her off her feet If she gets in a spur, we don't fuck in hur I'm iced out so she don't see nothin but a blur Becareful where you rub don't get nothin on the fur You know we got them things so the drama don't occur You front cause you drunk, yo' ass gettin jumped I'm high off the funk, dro, hash and the skunk Don't make them niggaz dump yo' ass in the trunk They remembers a black mask and a pump Them niggaz should have told you (Chorus) Lloyd Banks) (50 Cent) This is my house you 'gon do what I tell you to do When your in my house under my roof you follow my rules This is my house (Put ya hands up! Put ya put ya put ya put ya put ya hands up!) This is my house (I'll house you, girl you in my house now) |
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3:54 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
[Chorus: Lloyd Banks (50 Cent)]
I came to get somethin, I ain't worried 'bout nothin Child of the hood, I was put here for stuntin Strap like it's legal, ridin around bumpin If you can't beat 'em don't join 'em, jump 'em, fuck 'em (I never liked these niggaz anyway) (They could drop dead, fall off a buildin today) Hey... (Nobody gon' miss you anyway) (No days off, keep the pistol e'ry day) [50 Cent:] I got the burner burner, I come to burn and burn ya Revolver turn ya, call it murder murder I ain't smilin I ain't smirkin, I ain't muh'fuckin jokin See if you think somethin sweet when your head open Cross me, force me, go 'head, line me up I found where you rest at, you grimy fuck I be out front your raggedy-ass crib on a stake-out With a pound, two clips, and Chinese take-out You make it rain, I make it lead shower You say your prayers, you in your last hour I have you pushin up daisies, the coke dump crazy You chumps amaze me, the wolves they raised me You don't like me then spray me [Chorus] |
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3:54 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
[Chorus: Lloyd Banks (50 Cent)]
I came to get somethin, I ain't worried 'bout nothin Child of the hood, I was put here for stuntin Strap like it's legal, ridin around bumpin If you can't beat 'em don't join 'em, jump 'em, fuck 'em (I never liked these niggaz anyway) (They could drop dead, fall off a buildin today) Hey... (Nobody gon' miss you anyway) (No days off, keep the pistol e'ry day) [50 Cent:] I got the burner burner, I come to burn and burn ya Revolver turn ya, call it murder murder I ain't smilin I ain't smirkin, I ain't muh'fuckin jokin See if you think somethin sweet when your head open Cross me, force me, go 'head, line me up I found where you rest at, you grimy fuck I be out front your raggedy-ass crib on a stake-out With a pound, two clips, and Chinese take-out You make it rain, I make it lead shower You say your prayers, you in your last hour I have you pushin up daisies, the coke dump crazy You chumps amaze me, the wolves they raised me You don't like me then spray me [Chorus] |
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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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3:07 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
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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3:07 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
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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3:07 |
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from Lloyd Banks - On Fire (2004)
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 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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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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| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
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3:30 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
(feat. Young Buck)
[50 Cent:] This is the Unit The mighty mighty mighty Unit This is how we do it Ayy (ayy, ayy) I make the airline and pop to it, N.Y. bop to it No frontin here shorty, niggaz know how I do it For the paper let the gat pop, jackpot Find me trippin, ridin slow through the back blocks Red Coupe switchin lanes, top down, party frame Diamond rangs, diamond chains, diamonds on e'rythang Mo' flows, mo' dough, money come, money go New straps, new clip, stack chips, don't trip Play playa, go hard, stunt nigga, oh God Party ain't never over, niggaz hardly ever sober Different day, same shit, different city, different chick Show you how I do this shit, you notice how I do it kid [Tony Yayo:] Bitches recognize when I'm walkin in Smokin that piff, goin where dolphins swim 44-Colt, that's tossin him And that four-do' car is what I'm flossin in (YEAH!) I'm in the black, you in the red You owe your label money, I'm gettin bread Can you feel it, feel it? Nothin can save ya In my purple tag Polo and neon Gators (break it down now!) Bitch play cute, I don't get upset 'Til her ass get a facial and a washin set I'm in a private jet, but before the deal Hoes was like, "He's all right, but he's not I'll! " [Chorus: 50 Cent] You might see me yawnin, four in the mornin But the party ain't over Then it's back to the crib, to cut shorty that's how we on it The party ain't over Shorty move like you wanna move, work it shorty Gon' do what you wan' do, twerk it for me Now get low, shorty work that back Now get low, yeah just like that Now get low [Lloyd Banks:] Yeah, they love it when I pop round, doors up, top down Seat back, keep that, motherfuckin glock round Nigga this is my town, my block, my crown My sound, peace to my niggaz on lockdown They don't really want that, they know we get it poppin Six-four droppin, you still window shoppin I'm ridin round rockin, knockin, Rakim Slick Rick, Rick James; big stack, big chains I'm so sicker, the flow liquor, you're broke nigga I toast with'cha - if ya got a cup Hold your fuckin bottle up, I really want a model but You can get behind the truck, if you swallow nut I'm just playin, unless you gon' do it You put your back into it, the rest is all fluid Don't pull that thing out unless you gon' use it Ain't nobody bleedin, I guess it's all music [Young Buck:] Shawty the kush still burnin, Aston Martin wheel turnin Higher than Mount Vernon, the passenger she German Bottles is still poppin, clubs is still rockin Feds is still watchin, but fiends is still shoppin I got vitamin water money like I signed a deal How would you feel if you niggaz just got 400 mil' (like me) My bad bitch do her thang in her Vera Wang She let me have a brain, I let her wear my chain I'm on the plane smokin on that Mary Jane Listenin to Trina while she run game on Lil' Wayne My Ten-a-ki' timepiece shinin like a light bulb David Brown t-shirt, dressed just like a thug [Chorus] |
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3:30 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
(feat. Young Buck)
[50 Cent:] This is the Unit The mighty mighty mighty Unit This is how we do it Ayy (ayy, ayy) I make the airline and pop to it, N.Y. bop to it No frontin here shorty, niggaz know how I do it For the paper let the gat pop, jackpot Find me trippin, ridin slow through the back blocks Red Coupe switchin lanes, top down, party frame Diamond rangs, diamond chains, diamonds on e'rythang Mo' flows, mo' dough, money come, money go New straps, new clip, stack chips, don't trip Play playa, go hard, stunt nigga, oh God Party ain't never over, niggaz hardly ever sober Different day, same shit, different city, different chick Show you how I do this shit, you notice how I do it kid [Tony Yayo:] Bitches recognize when I'm walkin in Smokin that piff, goin where dolphins swim 44-Colt, that's tossin him And that four-do' car is what I'm flossin in (YEAH!) I'm in the black, you in the red You owe your label money, I'm gettin bread Can you feel it, feel it? Nothin can save ya In my purple tag Polo and neon Gators (break it down now!) Bitch play cute, I don't get upset 'Til her ass get a facial and a washin set I'm in a private jet, but before the deal Hoes was like, "He's all right, but he's not I'll! " [Chorus: 50 Cent] You might see me yawnin, four in the mornin But the party ain't over Then it's back to the crib, to cut shorty that's how we on it The party ain't over Shorty move like you wanna move, work it shorty Gon' do what you wan' do, twerk it for me Now get low, shorty work that back Now get low, yeah just like that Now get low [Lloyd Banks:] Yeah, they love it when I pop round, doors up, top down Seat back, keep that, motherfuckin glock round Nigga this is my town, my block, my crown My sound, peace to my niggaz on lockdown They don't really want that, they know we get it poppin Six-four droppin, you still window shoppin I'm ridin round rockin, knockin, Rakim Slick Rick, Rick James; big stack, big chains I'm so sicker, the flow liquor, you're broke nigga I toast with'cha - if ya got a cup Hold your fuckin bottle up, I really want a model but You can get behind the truck, if you swallow nut I'm just playin, unless you gon' do it You put your back into it, the rest is all fluid Don't pull that thing out unless you gon' use it Ain't nobody bleedin, I guess it's all music [Young Buck:] Shawty the kush still burnin, Aston Martin wheel turnin Higher than Mount Vernon, the passenger she German Bottles is still poppin, clubs is still rockin Feds is still watchin, but fiends is still shoppin I got vitamin water money like I signed a deal How would you feel if you niggaz just got 400 mil' (like me) My bad bitch do her thang in her Vera Wang She let me have a brain, I let her wear my chain I'm on the plane smokin on that Mary Jane Listenin to Trina while she run game on Lil' Wayne My Ten-a-ki' timepiece shinin like a light bulb David Brown t-shirt, dressed just like a thug [Chorus] |
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3:21 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
*featuring Young Buck
[50 Cent:] I'm a work of art A ghetto version of Mozart Yeah... haha [Chorus: 50 Cent] I move the keys, they call me the piano man I'm classically trained nobody do it better man I do my thang with me and my beretta man I got that girl you want her come and get her man [Hook x4: 50 Cent] Call me the piano man [Verse 1: Tony Yayo] Cartier glasses Cartier belt, Cartier watch tell me time somewhere else. Like Germany Sweden and Serbia, nigga one or two birds and I'm servin ya. I'm a ball like Julius Erving Iverson and Manning, I got that cannon in that two door phantom. Nigga hundred EX shit suicide doors, Get a top or low fade now the body lookin hard. This snake ass niggas is reptiles, Til I shoot em up and fill em up with projectiles. Yay' got the best styles Yay' got the best clothes, Yay' got the best weed Yay' got the best hoes. (Yeah!) [Chorus] [Hook x4] [Verse 2: Lloyd Banks] Yeah Fresh out the rimshot my wheels tick-tock, My steel six shot the paint flip flop. My charm truckie that's why they wanna fuck me, 207 McLaren body like Bucky. Old head get rusty and I'm a can of oil, And if hip hop do die a 100 grand'll boil. Show up at your bougie event give your body harm, Slide you all over the stage like Omarion. Don't need a party calm on the pepsi and bacardi bomb, Bail ain't nothin I make a Gotti bond. Magician I can make a dollar flip, Stick a whole Corona bottle in a model chick. [Chorus] [Hook x4] [Verse 3: Young Buck] I'm richer than a muhfucka ridin in a dirty ass phantom, We kill undercovers down here we can't stand em. Fill up the door panels and stuff the floor boards, I can fit a hundred in a Honda Accord. Blood of a drug lord brain of a baller, Hand of a hustler I'm all about a dollar. Everybodies a customer nobodies a friend, Somebodies gotta do it anybody can win. If I did it then I can do it now, When we get em in we can ship em out. A Gucci briefcase dressed in a suit and tie, Cartier's you can tell that I. [Chorus] [Hook x4] |
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3:21 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
*featuring Young Buck
[50 Cent:] I'm a work of art A ghetto version of Mozart Yeah... haha [Chorus: 50 Cent] I move the keys, they call me the piano man I'm classically trained nobody do it better man I do my thang with me and my beretta man I got that girl you want her come and get her man [Hook x4: 50 Cent] Call me the piano man [Verse 1: Tony Yayo] Cartier glasses Cartier belt, Cartier watch tell me time somewhere else. Like Germany Sweden and Serbia, nigga one or two birds and I'm servin ya. I'm a ball like Julius Erving Iverson and Manning, I got that cannon in that two door phantom. Nigga hundred EX shit suicide doors, Get a top or low fade now the body lookin hard. This snake ass niggas is reptiles, Til I shoot em up and fill em up with projectiles. Yay' got the best styles Yay' got the best clothes, Yay' got the best weed Yay' got the best hoes. (Yeah!) [Chorus] [Hook x4] [Verse 2: Lloyd Banks] Yeah Fresh out the rimshot my wheels tick-tock, My steel six shot the paint flip flop. My charm truckie that's why they wanna fuck me, 207 McLaren body like Bucky. Old head get rusty and I'm a can of oil, And if hip hop do die a 100 grand'll boil. Show up at your bougie event give your body harm, Slide you all over the stage like Omarion. Don't need a party calm on the pepsi and bacardi bomb, Bail ain't nothin I make a Gotti bond. Magician I can make a dollar flip, Stick a whole Corona bottle in a model chick. [Chorus] [Hook x4] [Verse 3: Young Buck] I'm richer than a muhfucka ridin in a dirty ass phantom, We kill undercovers down here we can't stand em. Fill up the door panels and stuff the floor boards, I can fit a hundred in a Honda Accord. Blood of a drug lord brain of a baller, Hand of a hustler I'm all about a dollar. Everybodies a customer nobodies a friend, Somebodies gotta do it anybody can win. If I did it then I can do it now, When we get em in we can ship em out. A Gucci briefcase dressed in a suit and tie, Cartier's you can tell that I. [Chorus] [Hook x4] |
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4:32 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
[Verse One]
Guess who's the man this winter, straight out the land of sinners The Range is tan with spinners, check out the white mirrors Blow with the damn winners while you and your man's finished Two in your Rams fitteds, turn off your lightswitch Holdin my torch down, even when the force 'round You let your wife roam, she want a divorce now You niggaz ain't this gully, play it I paint your skully You never take this from me the riders and all the gangsters love me You shouldn't be a problem, I ain't be a problem See you later I'll red your head, you'll be a Rodman I know your type, hoppin all over beat screamin You call it hypin yourself up, I call it street dreamin I do it for all the haters, the players roll with the gators They lookin forward to favors, gossip is all they gave us You niggaz wasn't quiet, meet the whales and the fishes You leak the precinct up, play tattletale with the snitches Even my momma knows, I got all kind of hoes They wait outside of shows strict after the diner close I'll get designer clothes, without the wine or rose Take off my baby blue mink, and Carolina vogues come here, take a look inside a entertainer's closet I never trust a bitch, I blame Lorena Bobbitt Niggaz stay in pocket, I know you're mad at me But shit ain't all peaches and cream, and I ain't Sara Lee Bitch! [Chorus] Don't ice me, you starin at the wrong one It's a lot of girls here, go and get a grown one We at the bar poppin bottles 'til they all gone If you ain't leavin here with us, you can walk home Cause someone else will, they know how we ride If you a playboy, you got one on the Eastside Keep your mouth closed, we don't let the beef ride .. (what) right .. (what) right .. (what) right .. (right, damn!) (Let's go) [Verse Two] I do this for the hood, niggaz stuck in the slammer I smile cause I'm good, you act tough for the camera Run from the lil' kids, they fuckin with Santa Cause they like 2Pac more - word? Word to my grandma I figure I might as well leave here with my glock drawn Cause they'll take to jail, even when you're not wrong Dawg you're not this flashy, jux you got to blast me Every rock is classy nobody on your block can match me You shouldn't want a fight, unless you want to fight for your life in the hospital a hundred nights I know your type, run behind your girl rushin You call it quality time, I call it handcuffin I'm on a beach in Miami, so you ain't reachin my family All weekend with panties from Puetro Rican Cammie You niggaz wasn't tough, I shoulda snapped two flicks You wore your pants tight, played pitty-pat with the chicks Even my father knows, where the revolver goes I bring the beef to your front door like dominoes And my diamonds froze, that mean my time is froze Me in the club from when it's poppin 'til the time it close Half of these so-called real niggaz'll probably sing Nah I ain't pullin over, learned that from Rodney King So tell your homey chill, you know I hold the steel Everything be jabs and hooks, and you ain't Holyfield Nigga! [Chorus] Everybody on the left get yo' hands up Everybody on the right get yo' hands up Everybody up front get yo' hands up And everybody out back get yo' hands up And if you in here with a strap get yo' hands up Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) ... man fuck what he said man, put 'em up! Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) ... ohhh-OHH! Lloyd Banks, what? Oooooooooooooh! |
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4:32 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
[Verse One]
Guess who's the man this winter, straight out the land of sinners The Range is tan with spinners, check out the white mirrors Blow with the damn winners while you and your man's finished Two in your Rams fitteds, turn off your lightswitch Holdin my torch down, even when the force 'round You let your wife roam, she want a divorce now You niggaz ain't this gully, play it I paint your skully You never take this from me the riders and all the gangsters love me You shouldn't be a problem, I ain't be a problem See you later I'll red your head, you'll be a Rodman I know your type, hoppin all over beat screamin You call it hypin yourself up, I call it street dreamin I do it for all the haters, the players roll with the gators They lookin forward to favors, gossip is all they gave us You niggaz wasn't quiet, meet the whales and the fishes You leak the precinct up, play tattletale with the snitches Even my momma knows, I got all kind of hoes They wait outside of shows strict after the diner close I'll get designer clothes, without the wine or rose Take off my baby blue mink, and Carolina vogues come here, take a look inside a entertainer's closet I never trust a bitch, I blame Lorena Bobbitt Niggaz stay in pocket, I know you're mad at me But shit ain't all peaches and cream, and I ain't Sara Lee Bitch! [Chorus] Don't ice me, you starin at the wrong one It's a lot of girls here, go and get a grown one We at the bar poppin bottles 'til they all gone If you ain't leavin here with us, you can walk home Cause someone else will, they know how we ride If you a playboy, you got one on the Eastside Keep your mouth closed, we don't let the beef ride .. (what) right .. (what) right .. (what) right .. (right, damn!) (Let's go) [Verse Two] I do this for the hood, niggaz stuck in the slammer I smile cause I'm good, you act tough for the camera Run from the lil' kids, they fuckin with Santa Cause they like 2Pac more - word? Word to my grandma I figure I might as well leave here with my glock drawn Cause they'll take to jail, even when you're not wrong Dawg you're not this flashy, jux you got to blast me Every rock is classy nobody on your block can match me You shouldn't want a fight, unless you want to fight for your life in the hospital a hundred nights I know your type, run behind your girl rushin You call it quality time, I call it handcuffin I'm on a beach in Miami, so you ain't reachin my family All weekend with panties from Puetro Rican Cammie You niggaz wasn't tough, I shoulda snapped two flicks You wore your pants tight, played pitty-pat with the chicks Even my father knows, where the revolver goes I bring the beef to your front door like dominoes And my diamonds froze, that mean my time is froze Me in the club from when it's poppin 'til the time it close Half of these so-called real niggaz'll probably sing Nah I ain't pullin over, learned that from Rodney King So tell your homey chill, you know I hold the steel Everything be jabs and hooks, and you ain't Holyfield Nigga! [Chorus] Everybody on the left get yo' hands up Everybody on the right get yo' hands up Everybody up front get yo' hands up And everybody out back get yo' hands up And if you in here with a strap get yo' hands up Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) ... man fuck what he said man, put 'em up! Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) ... ohhh-OHH! Lloyd Banks, what? Oooooooooooooh! |
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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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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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3:39 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
[Lloyd Banks]
My rope all freezy, dope on the TV Ecstasy especially out the GT You next to me, you best to be holdin somethin too Least you can say, you let somethin fly when somethin flew These niggaz get hit and call they lawyer And try to sue you, that's a bitch nigga for ya I'm tough like Mayoga, and De La Hoya, I saw ya Man niggaz'll stack nines for that Cola Cause zips in my shit, I don't grow stems Him got 14 karats, carrots, and gold rims Why say somethin about my name? Don't jump out the window, it's safer jumpin out a plane I can't ditch my bitch, it's somethin 'bout her brain If she put her mind to it she could suck out a vein You don't want a lead shower stay the fuck out the rain There's so much ammo niggaz don't gotta aim [Chorus: Lloyd Banks] You don't get a warnin, there's no heads up when it's on Here it comes, ready or not Don't be out there snorin, one eye blink and you're gone Keep it cocked - and ready to pop The man makes no mistakes, it's been on since the day I was born Stop drop, or get lead in your knot I'm known in hip-hop, but I'm still ridin around with my chrome Here it comes - ready or not [Tony Yayo] Yeah, yeah My little shooter's 16 from the projects Glock-16 with the Napoleon complex I'm in and out the projects, my lifestyle pleasant You? You live life like a barbaric peasant Me without my gun in the streets is like a Muslim eatin pig feet Fuck the pigs on the street They all wanna off a nigga - and when these rappers Get shot they ain't gangsta, they turn into corporate niggaz You die if it's rated R If it's PG-13 you leave with a scar R.I.P. to Troy and Bags, big shout to Hommo They got fishin money cooked, buy me the Apollo These model hoes swallow, I buy another bottle Of this M.O.B. nigga, that's my motto These rappers ain't kings, they pawns And got dust bunnies on they guns [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] I think God spent a lil' extra time on me Pop planted a miracle seed my mom ain't see I got a high intelligence level, I ain't no dummy I ain't satisfied with 10 mil', that ain't no money My talents are blood deep, you can't take those from me And my sense of humor's shot, I don't take jokes funny My paranoia rolls with my bullet holes Givin me a third eye, my foes can get a magazine full of those The hip-hop cops follow my Suburban Hopin they can find a pistol on him when they search him I'm icier in person, they like me when I'm cursin So here's a dirty version, you only heard me urban If niggaz try to hurt him, the I-30's squirtin Right through your curtain, don't stop 'til you murk him Mechanical workin, Hechler handle's jerkin That'll pull the Gate in after you Heavenly church him [Chorus] |
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3:39 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
[Lloyd Banks]
My rope all freezy, dope on the TV Ecstasy especially out the GT You next to me, you best to be holdin somethin too Least you can say, you let somethin fly when somethin flew These niggaz get hit and call they lawyer And try to sue you, that's a bitch nigga for ya I'm tough like Mayoga, and De La Hoya, I saw ya Man niggaz'll stack nines for that Cola Cause zips in my shit, I don't grow stems Him got 14 karats, carrots, and gold rims Why say somethin about my name? Don't jump out the window, it's safer jumpin out a plane I can't ditch my bitch, it's somethin 'bout her brain If she put her mind to it she could suck out a vein You don't want a lead shower stay the fuck out the rain There's so much ammo niggaz don't gotta aim [Chorus: Lloyd Banks] You don't get a warnin, there's no heads up when it's on Here it comes, ready or not Don't be out there snorin, one eye blink and you're gone Keep it cocked - and ready to pop The man makes no mistakes, it's been on since the day I was born Stop drop, or get lead in your knot I'm known in hip-hop, but I'm still ridin around with my chrome Here it comes - ready or not [Tony Yayo] Yeah, yeah My little shooter's 16 from the projects Glock-16 with the Napoleon complex I'm in and out the projects, my lifestyle pleasant You? You live life like a barbaric peasant Me without my gun in the streets is like a Muslim eatin pig feet Fuck the pigs on the street They all wanna off a nigga - and when these rappers Get shot they ain't gangsta, they turn into corporate niggaz You die if it's rated R If it's PG-13 you leave with a scar R.I.P. to Troy and Bags, big shout to Hommo They got fishin money cooked, buy me the Apollo These model hoes swallow, I buy another bottle Of this M.O.B. nigga, that's my motto These rappers ain't kings, they pawns And got dust bunnies on they guns [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] I think God spent a lil' extra time on me Pop planted a miracle seed my mom ain't see I got a high intelligence level, I ain't no dummy I ain't satisfied with 10 mil', that ain't no money My talents are blood deep, you can't take those from me And my sense of humor's shot, I don't take jokes funny My paranoia rolls with my bullet holes Givin me a third eye, my foes can get a magazine full of those The hip-hop cops follow my Suburban Hopin they can find a pistol on him when they search him I'm icier in person, they like me when I'm cursin So here's a dirty version, you only heard me urban If niggaz try to hurt him, the I-30's squirtin Right through your curtain, don't stop 'til you murk him Mechanical workin, Hechler handle's jerkin That'll pull the Gate in after you Heavenly church him [Chorus] |
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