 [50]
Yeah.. Ja, you ready? Drop that
Ferrari F 50 style baby (yeah, yeah)
I'ma show 'em how I do it (yeah,
yeah)
G-g-g-g-g G-UNIT!
I keep hearin' niggas is happy, the
D's come, niggas wit guns
When I'm out on bail, ridin' wit' some
new ones
Big got hit in that passenger seat
Pac got hit in that passenger seat
Now I'm ridin' 'round in that
passenger seat
Come near the whip, I'm blastin' my
heat
It don't take long, for my juvenile
delinquent thinkin' to sink in
The consequences mean nothin',
those semi auto's is bustin'
Crack sellin', predicate villain, spit big
words but I can't spell 'em
Put a shot to your melon, that'll keep
you're punk ass from chillin'
Then I got that nine and a fo'-fo',
that H2 is never full
Bullet proof windows and doors,
gangsta how 'bout yours
Southside tatted on my back
My last gun shipment got the whole
hood strapped
Now all I got is two 380's and a nine
Nigga you can knock and tell the
cops but you're dyin'
[Chorus - repeat 2X]
You're thicker than water
Ouch! twizzy wizzy wa
You're thicker than water
Ouch! twizzy wizzy wa
You're thicker than water
Ouch! twizzy wizzy wa
You can be a Blood or a Crip
Nigga, bitch
Follow Me
[Tony Yayo]
I used to chill in the hood, to support
the fiends
But now I'm eatin' caviar instead of
pork and beans
I'm in the money green 7-45, with 7
shots in the fo' five
Y'all niggas wanna die?
I got a love affair, wit' violence and
guns
So this is for them gangstas, rep'
where you from
When I got O'd up, my heart turned
colder
That's why the mac react like a king
cobra
Now I'm jumpin' out of Rovers, in
Gucci loafers
Y'all niggas wanna stun? I'll bury you
cockroaches
Gimme one year, in this industry
I'll buy enough guns to declare war
on a small country
[Chorus]
[Lloyd Banks]
Still walk around wit' the hammer
boss
Rope and a cross
Hard times'll make a lil' nigga hate
Santa Claus
Your mountains is high, holdin' in
Diana Ross
I'm like a 2003 banana Porsche
I don't gotta hide sluts, to get your
ties cut
They on my dick, 'cause I make
groupies set off a fire truck
My team in the cutt, packin' middle
things
I got more foreign shooters than the
Sacramento Kings
It's 8 class karats in the border
I poke holes in plastic, to avoid a
vaginal disorder
I'm a savage on your daughter
She ain't in the college dorm
Then I guess I'm squirtin' on the
cabin that you bought her
I'm a heavy weed smoker, so the
average is a quarter
Brown colored from shit, he
established in the water
You got Banks on your jersey, you
part of my fan base
Just 'cause you pour syrup on shit,
don't make it pancakes
[Chorus]
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