[Intro: Lloyd Banks & DJ Kay Slay]
(Damn)
Yeah! (Lloyd Banks!)
Ya ya Y’all know the name (G-G-G-Unit)
(What’s good?!) Hahahahaha Yeah!
(Kay Slay drama king in the building!)
[Verse 1]
Yeah!
Y’all know me for sayin’ that shit (Uh)
Man you bitch niggas can play with my pits
Nah I don’t play around I rather play for the Knicks
Kick a hole in ya diggas’ and pancake in ya ribs (Uh)
That bread’ll bring a lot of land lake in the crib (Uh huh)
So I don’t feel bad about takin’ a shit (Nah)
‘Cause kids don’t eat books they eat bacon n’shit
I’m sick, give me a drumroll, bass, and a kit, that’s it
The click, gun hole waitin’ to spit
Don’t trip, you’ll be gumbo waitin’ to sip
(Woo!)
From New York to P.A. replay or DJ
I make it look “E-zay” (easy), move like
Wee-bey, ball like D-wade, cold like my necklace or the records Ice-T made, reckless, and in a matter of sеconds ima be paid, you know where thе heat stay
That thing’ll fill ya up like cheesecake
They love me ‘cause I represent the street “Ayee!” Don’t bring that dumb shit this way
Drive em’ outta they mind when you shine
I got mine, ‘cause jake shootin’ 50 somethin’ times
Til they get shot back and blame it on 50 rhymes
There’s brains out there I gotta get me nine
You ain’t built for crime, ya get knocked
Bring the whole crew down like Nino Brown
Like Nicky Barnes
I stunt in slow motion coastin’ two bitches wit’ me and ima fuck both em’ (Yeah!)
In due time my talk game awesome it
Cost em’ go an toss em’ after I touch em’ (Woo!)
Niggas been around for years and got nothin’ (Nothin!)
Your not even prepared stop bluffin’
(Ya bluffin’)
You can’t dodge death stop duckin’ (Uh)
Ya built outta stuffin’ can’t even pitch a buck in (Hahaha fuck em’)
I’m Lac’ truckin’ it ain’t a safe place to say so pack somethin’ (somethin’) you’ll get somethin’ took, you won’t get it back
Uh-uh, nigga you the supper
Smellin’ like cooked cornbread mufucka’
(Yeah)
Go somewhere an freeload, they send they lil shots but they ain’t fuckin’ wit’ me though
I look down on em’ talk shit like T.O
Same nigga whether white tee or tuxedo
Lyrical torpedo, my name ring from Red Hook to Rio
Your small as a keyhole, and I’m Deebo
We’re not equal, this is a eagle
Click clack BLAT! Through ya million dollar peephole, nigga!
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB