[Young Buck] Yeah, you know what it is Aiyyo, it's a hater in this muh'fucker tonight Point his ass out, G-Unit South
A dirty nigga with a whole lot of ice on We serve niggaz mommas just to keep our lights on Fuck credit, I ain't fuckin wit y'all When I was locked up, niggaz wouldn't answer my calls I pick my glock up, broke down a damn eightball And hit the block up, yeah we sell grams and all But here the haters come, I done went and bought me a Chevy I got drive out tags on twenty-fo's already Let me circle back around, let my window down Ay where that nigga now? I don't even hear a sound You know they hate you when ya rich, and love when you're broke Fleas turn into ticks and the bitches get ya smoked I'ma +Gangsta Grill+ on 'em, pop a pill on 'em I see a lil' murder went and got the deal on 'em So go on say my name, shit, I don't blame ya Just know that that bitch that you whip ain't no angel nigga
[Chorus: Young Buck] I just flip more bricks when they talk about me I just buy more whips when they talk about me I just stack my chips when they talk about me Think about it, what would you haters do without me? I just fuck niggaz hoes when they talk about me I just roll up the 'dro when they talk about me We go to war, that's fo' sho' when they talk about me Think about it, what would you haters do without me?
[Lloyd Banks] Uhh, the hood's not feelin you, I'm in a $100,000 vehicle Schemin through, makin 'em stare, that's what the earrings do I'm never compared to you, I'm willin and prepared to do anything I gotta do; man I'll shit on a lot of you Park in front the W and let the doors lift I could smell a hater, damn near get what the dog will sniff I been here before bitch, fitted low, long fifth Nothin but chronic and chrome, that full grown piff Niggaz know Banks is real, candy paint DeVille Iced out +Gangsta Grill+, hit the gas, shank the wheel If you pay attention I could show you how to make a mil' With the pen, with a pill, I'm walkin 'round with the steel Chill, before you get your ass tossed up Beat up and choked, 'til information is coughed up I'm ridin with the four tucked, bullet-proof war truck Them G-Unit niggaz don't give a fuck, ask Buck
[Chorus] w/ ad libs
[Tony Yayo] Damn it feels good to see people up on it Used to be broke now I floss and I flaunt it Don't ever buy your album, word to mother Not even a bootleg with the blurry cover Burn rubber in the Benz we glarin, chain glarin Things starin, I'm hot so stop comparin Yo it's T-O-N-Y, cook like a chemist The six be the color of spinach On a boardwalk to Venice, stashbox holdin the tec So I could cook a nigga brain like Hannibal Lec' I got the money, the power and a big set of balls Niggaz slow your roll, I'll put your face on the wall I get birds for dirt cheap, I get that dough And put pieces on your strip the size of your big toe I'm out in A-T-L, smokin granddaddy On the rubberband tires on the brand new Caddy, YEAH!
[Chorus] w/ ad libs
[Young Buck] Yeah, GANGSTA GRIZZILLS! You know what it is nigga, aiyyo Holla when you see some real niggaz, YEAH! DJ Drama, Cannon, trend setters Do ya thang mayne, G-UNIT!! {*fades out*}Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.