50 Cent, Lloyd Banks, Tony Yayo 8 Mile Road ( G-Unit Remix ) lyrics

Yeah, 50 Cent, Lloyd Banks, Tony Yayo
G-Unit

This rap shit plays a major part of my life
So if you jeopardize it, I got the right
To send a mothafucka at you tonight
G-Unit and I ain't stopping to my clique popping

Swimming in barrels of money
Ma could walk around wit a head up and challenge you, dummy
It's funny, niggaz rather see you suffering and hungry
I'm hungry as hell, skating with another nigga's money

You lying your ass off, you know you ain't that tough
I'm pulling your mask off as soon as you act up
You know what I came for, it isn't the game ball
Artillery that's about as long as a chainsaw
(Lloyd Banks)

I'm wide awake but it still feels like I'm dreaming
Forty cal under my pillow, condom feeling my semen
The physical presence of a female, form of a demon
That's why, I fuck 'em and leave 'em

Get my nut while I'm breathing
'Cause they thought they'd catch me slipping
Now I'm ducking and tripping
That's a thousand dollar outfit, what the fuck is you ripping?
You tripping, more records could get my ass in position
Deathwish for no religion, whether Catholic or Christian

Listen, I went through Mama bitching in and out the kitchen
With probable cause, Papa was in and out of prison
You got soldiers but you still gotta respect ours
We got more four five's and nines than a deck of cards

You can take me out the 'hood
But can't take the 'hood out me
('Cause what?)
'Cause I'm ghetto, I'm ghetto
Niggaz hate when you do good

But when you broke, your friends and your enemies
They love you, they love you
"Chi Chi, get the yayo"
Picture me being crack, out of town, trips on the trail
"Chi Chi, get the yayo"
Picture me being crack
(Tony Yayo)

You can sift me, cut me, I'll turn you to a junkie
I'm the number one seller in the whole fucking country
Wall Street niggaz, they cop me on the low
White boys don't call me coke, they call me blow
It's time to go on the bus, the train, the plane

I'll smuggle, I'm nothing but trouble
I'll make your money double
Cook me in baking soda

I'll turn your Hooprock into a new Range Rover

I'll pay all your bills and fill your 'frigerator
Feed your family, turn your man to a hater
Put me in your door panels or your stash box
Put me in your Nikes, Timbs or Reeboks

If you cop three and a half, you hustling backwards
Cop a hundred grams, you moving forwards
You trying to move more birds
In PA all day, on the corner of Third

You can take me out the 'hood
But can't take the 'hood out me
(What?)
'Cause I'm ghetto, I'm ghetto
Picture me polishing pistols, I'm coming to get you

The shells hit you, you screaming
Think I'm playing? I mean it
Man, I done bought all these pistols
Let's get it popping
Start waving my embodies shell cases get the dropping
(C'mon)

Like if it's down the corner, I got too much pride to hide
I'm outside, gun in my pocket just stunning I'm stopping
I'm dying to pop it, I'm young and I'm restless
You know my contestants
As the world turns, there's lessons to be learned

Count all my blessings, clean up my weapons
I'm ready for war, the strong survive, the weak will parish
I told you before, hoes they compliment me now like
"50, nice chain"
Belagio, twenty grand in chips at a dice game

Burn out, can't stop gotta watch MTV, BET, nigga, you see me
I wonder if you mad 'cause I'm doing good
Or 'cause niggaz feeling me more than you in your own 'hood
And it hurts 'cause you love 'em and they don't love you back
'Cause they know you just rapping
And you don't bust a gat, you pussy

Yeah, explain it to niggaz in your hood, nigga
They know you fucking fronting, nigga
Talking like gangstas on a record, I see you, nigga
Niggaz know me nigga, ask around in my 'hood, nigga

Read the 'Daily News', nigga
You see them talking about me, nigga
I'm in the middle of all kinds of shit
Pussy, let's get it popping

G-G-Unit, G-G-Unit, G-G-G-Unit
G-G-G-Unit, G-Unit