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 - Tony Yayo] 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
[Tony Yayo] 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 wounds will 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]
Compositores: Curtis James Jackson (50 Cent), Christopher Charles Lloyde (Lloyd Banks), David Darnell Brown (Young Buck), Robert Brandon Smith ECAD: Obra #1639593