Blood Hound ( 50cent )

Blood Hound ( 50cent )
Blood Hound

G-Unit, UTP
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
G-Unit, UTP, G-Unit, UTP
G-Unit, UTP, 50 Cent, get 'em bucked

50 Cent, that's my name
Man I ain't fuckin' playin'
I move on you wit' that Mac mayn Mac mayn
Come off, now watch your chain
Fo' I blow out your brains
Shells hit your chest go out your back mayn back mayn
See me I put in work, man I been doin' dirt
For so long when niggas get laid out laid out
Niggas run through my crib, to holla at the kid
That's when I start bringin' them thangs out thangs out
Then we go through the strip, hangin' up out the whip
Dumpin' clips off at they whole clique mayn clique mayn
When witnesses around, they know how we get down
So when the cops come they ain't see shit mayn shit mayn
My soldiers slangin' 'caine, sunny, snow, in sleet or rain
Come through the hood and you can cop that cop that
I'm sittin' on some change, G-Unit gots the game
Come through here stuntin' you get popped at popped at

I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two Glocks
Love to bust shots but you don't hear me though

I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two Glocks
Love to bust shots but you don't hear me though

I came in this game knowin' niggas gon' hate me
Just for the simple fact they know that I'm a rida' rida'
I got a hell of a aim, I keep on tellin' ya mayn
I swear ain't nobody gon' find ya find ya
When I get lifted I'm tempted to tear your block up
Your niggas can't run cause I'm behind ya behind ya
Me and Chilly in your city wit' a couple nine-milli's
You better stay in line bro' (n line bro'
Cause if I walk it I'll talk it, you know we'll walk up and pop it
I love the sound of gunfire bro' gunfire bro'
Right now we smackin' 'em wit' platinum
And they hate it cause we made it, that's what we keep that eye for that eye for
I represent it cause I'm in it, UTP until I'm finished
Juvenile, they can't stop us can't stop us
And I admit it, I live it
I'll knock a baller off his pivot with this motherfuckin' choppa'

I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two Glocks
Love to bust shots but you don't hear me though

I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two Glocks
Love to bust shots but you don't hear me though

My twenty-inches spinnin', you always see me grinin'
And you hear niggas call me grimey grimey
They hit me wit' them bricks, and I ain't pay 'em shit
I'm outta town, they can't find me find me
When I come back around, man I'ma back 'em down
I run up bustin' that Tec mayn Tec mayn
If you ain't got a gun, and you can't fuckin' run
My advice is you hit the deck mayn deck mayn
But if you get away and come back another day
My soldiers'll leave you wet mayn wet mayn
Cause we know where you be, and we know where you stay
And we'll come trippin' through your set mayn set mayn
Man you heard what I said, now get it in your head
I ain't payin' no fuckin' debt mayn debt mayn
Cause you'se a middle man, but you don't understand
You'se a fuckin' fake ass connect' mayn connect' mayn

I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two Glocks
Love to bust shots but you don't hear me though

I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two Glocks
Love to bust shots but you don't hear me though
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# Posté le dimanche 02 juillet 2006 04:07

Modifié le lundi 16 juillet 2007 06:37

Back Down ( 50cent )

Back Down ( 50cent )
Back Down

Yea, G-G-G-G-G-UNIT! G-UNIT!
Ha ha...

It's easy to see when you look at me
If you look closely, 50 don't BACK DOWN
Everywhere I go both coasts wit toast
Eastside, Westside, I hold that MACK DOWN
Every little nigga you see around me
Hold a gun big enough to fuckin hold SHAQ DOWN
Next time you in the hood and see an ol G
You ask about me, the young boy don't BACK DOWN

Any living thing that cannot co-exist with the kid
Must decease existin, little nigga, now listen
Yo mami, yo papi, that bitch you chasin
Ya little dirty ass kids, I'll fuckin erase them
Your success is not enough, you wanna be hard
Knowin that, you get knocked, you get fucked in the yard
Youza poptart sweetheart, you soft in the middle
I eatcha for breakfast, the watch was an exchange for your necklace
and your boss is a bitch, if he could he would
Sell his soul for cheap, trade his Knight to be Suge
You can buy cars but you can't buy respect in the hood
Maybe I'm so disrespectfu cuz to me you're a mystery
I know niggaz from ya hood, you have no history
Never sold nothin, never popped nothin, nigga stop frontin
Jay put you on, X made you hot
Now you run around like you some big shot
Ha, ha pussy...

It's easy to see when you look at me
If you look closely, 50 don't BACK DOWN
Everywhere I go both coasts wit toast
Eastside, Westside, I hold that MACK DOWN
Every little nigga you see around me
Hold a gun big enough to fuckin hold SHAQ DOWN
Next time you in the hood and see an ol G
You ask about me, the young boy don't BACK DOWN

"This rap shit is all fucked up now! What are we gonna do now?
How we gonna eat man? 50 back around"
That's Ja's lil punk ass thinkin out loud
Southside, Tah died, that's just how I get down
I'm back in the game shawty, to +Rule+ and conquer
You sing for hoes and sound like the cookie monster
I'm the hardest from New York, my flow is bonkers
All the other hard niggaz, they come from Yonkers
It's been years and you had the same niggaz in the background
You never gonna sell Mitsubushi Tah & Crack Child.
Them niggaz they just SUCK, they no good
I ain't never heard a nigga say "they like them in the hood"
I'm back better than ever, on top of my game
Even them country boys sayin "50 we feelin you mayn"
Now you stay the fuck outta my zone, outta my throne
I'm New York City's own...BAD GUY BAD GUY

It's easy to see when you look at me
If you look closely, 50 don't BACK DOWN
Everywhere I go both coasts wit toast
Eastside, Westside, I hold that MACK DOWN
Every little nigga you see around me
Hold a gun big enough to fuckin hold SHAQ DOWN
Next time you in the hood and see an ol G
You ask about me, the young boy don't BACK DOWN

I ain't tellin anyone you pussy
I ain't tellin anyone you gettin extored
It ain't over.... G-UNIT
I've been patently waitin to BLOWW
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the "50 Cent Show"
This is my life, my pain, my night, my gun
Now that I'm back, you can't sleep
I'm a nightmare huuhhhh
You hired cops to hold you down cuz you fear for your life
You heard about them guns I done bought, right?
I ain't goin no where, I done told you nigga
I'ma G-Unit motherfuckin soldier nigga They not gon like you
I know, I know...ha, ha G-UNIT
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# Posté le dimanche 02 juillet 2006 04:12

Modifié le lundi 16 juillet 2007 06:39

p.i.m.p. ( 50cent )

p.i.m.p. ( 50cent )
p.i.m.p.

I don't know what you heard about me
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfucking P-I-M-P

I don't know what you heard about me
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfucking P-I-M-P

Now shorty, she in the club, she dancing for dollars
She got a thing for that Gucci, that Fendi, that Prada
That BCBG, Burberry, Dolce and Gabana
She feed them foolish fantasies, they pay her cause they wanna
I spit a little G man, and my game got her
A hour later, have that ass up in the Ramada
Them trick niggas in her ear saying they think about her
I got the bitch by the bar trying to get a drink up out her
She like my style, she like my smile, she like the way I talk
She from the country, think she like me cause I'm from New York
I ain't that nigga trying to holla cause I want some head
I'm that nigga trying to holla cause I want some bread
I could care less how she perform when she in the bed
Bitch hit that track, catch a date, and come and pay the kid
Look baby this is simple, you can't see
You fucking with me, you fucking with a P-I-M-P

I don't know what you heard about me
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfucking P-I-M-P

I don't know what you heard about me
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfucking P-I-M-P

I'm bout my money you see, girl you can holla at me
If you fucking with me, I'm a P-I-M-P
Not what you see on TV, no Cadillac, no greasy
Head full of hair, bitch I'm a P-I-M-P
Come get money with me, if you curious to see
how it feels to be with a P-I-M-P
Roll in the Benz with me, you could watch TV
From the backseat of my V, I'm a P-I-M-P
Girl we could pop some champagne and we could have a ball
We could toast to the good life, girl we could have it all
We could really splurge girl, and tear up the mall
If ever you needed someone, I'm the one you should call
I'll be there to pick you up, if ever you should fall
If you got problems, I can solve'em, they big or they small
That other nigga you be with ain't bout shit
I'm your friend, your father, and confidant, BITCH

I don't know what you heard about me
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfucking P-I-M-P

I don't know what you heard about me
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfucking P-I-M-P

I told you fools before, I stay with the tools
I keep a Benz, some rims, and some jewels
I holla at a hoe til I got a bitch confused
She got on Payless, me I got on gator shoes
I'm shopping for chinchillas, in the summer they cheaper
Man this hoe you can have her, when I'm done I ain't gon keep her
Man, bitches come and go, every nigga pimpin know
You saying it's secret, but you ain't gotta keep it on the low
Bitch choose with me, I'll have you stripping in the street
Put my other hoes down, you get your ass beat
Now Nik my bottom bitch, she always come up with my bread
The last nigga she was with put stitches in her head
Get your hoe out of pocket, I'll put a charge on a bitch
Cause I need 4 TVs and AMGs for the six
Hoe make a pimp rich, I ain't paying bitch
Catch a date, suck a dick, shiiit, TRICK

I don't know what you heard about me
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfucking P-I-M-P

I don't know what you heard about me
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfucking P-I-M-P

Yeah, in Hollywoood they say there's no b'ness like show b'ness
In the hood they say, there's no b'ness like hoe b'ness ya know
They say I talk a lil fast, but if you listen a lil faster
I ain't got to slow down for you to catch up, BITCH
ha ha... yeah...
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# Posté le dimanche 02 juillet 2006 04:13

Modifié le mercredi 12 juillet 2006 03:52

Like My Style ( 50cent )

Like My Style ( 50cent )
Like My Style

Uh huh I know you like my style
Uh huh You like how I break it down
Uh huh I know you like style
Uh huh You like how I break it down
I know you like my style
Uh huh You like how I break it down
Wanna get rich I'll show you how
Wanna get rich I'll show you how

On ya mark, get set, let's go, switch the flow
Teach ya how to turn yayo in to doe
The original don dada nobody bomb harda
Ya heard what I said boy, I'm hot, I'm hot
The hoodrats they say "He so crazy"
The snitches they say "He tried to spray me"
That's what you get for tryin to play me
The Aftermath and my wrath is so SHADY
No matter how you try you can't stop it
I catch ya stuntin in the Bentley Coup cockpit
If you a pimp why ya hoes stay outta pocket
Front and find out how my P-40 glock hit
"50 you need some help" chill yo, yo I got this
Where I'm from the D's tryin to knock us
They swear to God that it's me sellin the choppas
Man I ain't give them lil niggas no product

Uh huh I know you like my style
Uh huh But how much do you like my style
Uh huh You like how I break it down
Uh huh Wanna get rich I'll show you how

Uh huh I know you like my style
Uh huh But how much do you like my style
Uh huh You like how I break it down
Uh huh Wanna get rich I'll show you how

The birds they say I got a way with words
I be like "baby girl I like them curves"
If ya not busy tonight then we can swerve
I'ma bachelor baby, fuck what you heard

From the tellie in ten minutes I'll make you a believer
Tongue touch ya'll have ya shakin like you havin a seizure
I make hits about what I do in my leisure
G unit gang, can't another clique out to see us
Niggas lip sync the lyrics cuz they wanna be us
Groupie hoes from the hood they be tryin ta G us
Try ta holla at the kid, e'ery time they see us
Girlfriend quit pretending I'm the nigga ya love
And I ain't got to say nuttin you know that I'm thugin
Wit my hands on dat ass and ya say that I'm buggin
We family baby, kissin cousins
Now look what the riff raff done drug in
For the cheese my degrees is hotter then ya oven
I'ma New Yorker but I sound southern
And we sip DP till the Don stop bubblin
After we play, ok, got to ya husband

Uh huh I know you like my style
Uh huh But how much do you like my style
Uh huh You like how I break it down
Uh huh Wanna get rich I'll show you how

Uh huh I know you like my style
Uh huh But how much do you like my style
Uh huh You like how I break it down
Uh huh Wanna get rich I'll show you how

Em said you gone like my style
Dre said you gone like my style
I said you gone like my style Uh huh
You gone like how I break it down

You're not really, really ready ready
The drama will have ya ass in trauma BOY!
You're not really, really ready ready
My knife flip open and then I gets to pokin
You're not really, really ready ready
Them shells start poppin and bodies get to droppin
You're not really, really ready ready
You think ya ready, ya not ya not
Really really ready ready
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# Posté le dimanche 02 juillet 2006 04:13

Modifié le lundi 16 juillet 2007 06:40

Poor Lil Rich ( 50cent )

Poor Lil Rich ( 50cent )
Poor Lil Rich

I let my watch talk for me, my whip talk for me
My gat talk for me, BOW! What up homie
My watch saying hi shorty we can be friends
My whip saying quit playing bitch get in
My earring saying we can hit the mall together
Shorty its only right that we ball together
I'm into bigger things y'all niggaz y'all know my style
Ya wrist bling bling, my shit bling blow
My pinky ring talk it say fifty I'm sick
That's why these niggaz is on my dick
Some hate me, some love my hits
Flex my man he gon bump my shit
See I'm alive man I really don't care
I tell them hoes whatever they wanna hear
You try and play me I'ma blaze it in
My chromes cost more than the crib ya momma raised ya in

I was a poor nigga
Now I'm a rich nigga
Getting paper now you can't tell me shit nigga
You can find me in the fo' dot six nigga
In the backseat fondling ya bitch nigga

I was a poor nigga
Now I'm a rich nigga
Getting paper now you can't tell me shit nigga
You can find me in the fo' dot six nigga
In the backseat fondling ya bitch nigga

New York niggaz, cocky niggaz like it's all good
Fuck around we crip-walking in the wrong hood
I'm fresh up out the slammer, I ain't no fucking bama
I'm from the wild whody, but I know country grammar
See me I get it crunk, niggaz go head and front
I go up out the trunk, come back, rollout I'm done (yeah)
My money come in lumps, my pockets got the mumps
You see me sitting on dubs, that's why u mad chump
Don't make me hit ya up, 50 cent will split ya up
I lay you down, them carnids will come and get ya up
See 50 play fa keeps, and 50 stay wit heat
I can't go commercial, they love me in the street
I'm real bloody man, the hood love me man
Don't make me show up in ya crib like bro-man
Locked up in a pen, I still do my thing
C-O screaming shut the fuck up in the pen

I was a poor nigga
Now I'm a rich nigga
Getting paper now you can't tell me shit nigga
You can find me in the fo' dot six nigga
In the backseat fondling ya bitch nigga

I was a poor nigga
Now I'm a rich nigga
Getting paper now you can't tell me shit nigga
You can find me in the fo' dot six nigga
In the backseat fondling ya bitch nigga

I'm in the Benz on Monday, the BM on Tuesday
Range on Wednesday, Thursday I'm in the hooptay
Porsche on Friday, I do things my way
Vipe or Vette, I tear up the highway
Shorty she can tell ya about my dick game
But she don't know me, she only know my nickname
Left the hood and came back, damn shit changed
These young boys, they done got they own work man

I was a poor nigga
Now I'm a rich nigga
Getting paper now you can't tell me shit nigga
You can find me in the fo' dot six nigga
In the backseat fondling ya bitch nigga

I was a poor nigga
Now I'm a rich nigga
Getting paper now you can't tell me shit nigga
You can find me in the fo' dot six nigga
In the backseat fondling ya bitch nigga
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# Posté le dimanche 02 juillet 2006 04:14

Modifié le lundi 16 juillet 2007 06:37