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Paroles de chansons
Les paroles de G-Unit:
| | | Artiste: | G-Unit |
| | Album: | Unknown | | Titre: | G-Unit | | | | Date d'ajout: | 18/10/2007 | | Vues: | 504 fois | | | | Paroles: | [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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Les paroles de l'artiste: G-Unit
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