a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

g unit - pt2 & bump heads lyrics

[50 cent]
i wanna be the reason you smile after you wipe ya tears
the reason you have the courage to confront ya fears
the reason there’s two karats in each of ya ears
i splurge with the paper ma, i don’t care
how you like it, pumps or boots, jeeps or coops
minks or leathers, fifty fall off never
what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine
so when i shine, you shine
the finest champagne, we can toast to life
cr-p table in vegas, you can toss the dice
don’t let ya fears let you confuse sayin’ “fifty’s bad news”
i need you in my life girl, your too much to lose

[beat switches]

[hook]
n-gg-, you won’t deny that i’ma f-ckin’ ride out
then you’ll b-mp heads wit me
i’ll put a hole in yo -ss, you’ll see
that it ain’t cool to f-ck wit me

[tony yayo]
g-unit, i roll wit gorillas
f-ck a big body guard, i hang wit pint size killas
i ain’t tryin’ to be dirty, still on the strip
i’m tryin’ to be dirty, filthy rich
give a n-gg- too much rope, he think he a cowboy
give tony too much dope, i’m pushin’ the big boy
v12, sl detailed
i rap and wait for them checks in the mail
if you hatin’, your due time life will expire
cause my guns speak jamaican, they be like “bloodfire!”
where i’m from, n-gg-s be on some sleak sh-t
they hungry, use they lighters to cook their beef stick
and this ‘dro and this nestle got me right
so my lungs be as black as wesley snipes
i’m on first cl-ss flights heading towards vegas
ya slot machines n-gg-s, we cr-p table players
i roll a seven, cause we cr-p table players

[hook]
n-gg-, you won’t deny that i’ma f-ckin’ ride out
then you’ll b-mp heads wit me
i’ll put a hole in yo -ss, you’ll see
that it ain’t cool to f-ck wit me

[lloyd banks]
i know a lot of n-gg-s want banks gone
my kind of beef will f-ck up ya grill and not the kind you put franks on
i’m hidin’ out, so my meals is home cooked
i deal wit more ho’s than a chinese phone book
your high with your messed up ratchets
i’m out blowin’ haze bags the size of ketchup packets
f-ck who’s in ya ride, there’s tools on my side
by the females standin’ with tattoos on they thighs
there’s a lot of cats losin’ they wives
cause next time i see ’em, they got black and blues on they eyes
nah, i ain’t ready to die, but i’m prepared
but i’d rather grow old with grey hairs in my beard
they know me in the field, the kid with the fans
that argue over my b-lls like kobe and shaquille
if you talkin’ bout millions throw me in the deal
big city, stadium tour, ruining the bill motherf-cker

- g unit lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS