Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Betta Ask Somebody, artist - G-Unit. Album song Beg For Mercy, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.2002
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: G Unit, Interscope
Song language: English
Betta Ask Somebody |
I, know, you, know |
I’m, on, fiiiii-re |
If, you don’t know, who I be You betta ask somebooooody about me Oh — you wanna be tough nigga, a look is enough |
I put that snub nose to ya and bust nigga |
If, you don’t know, who I be You betta ask somebooooody about me And they’ll tell ya I’m a soldier boy |
And I done told ya, over and over boy |
I come from a big city, the streets corrupt |
Now I’m rollin with snub-noses to heat you up Out here niggaz’ll do anything to reach a buck |
Cause when you broke you can’t afford to fuck ya sneakers up I take my time, keep my mind on my bank funds |
Learn how to seperate the real from the fake ones |
And on my heater nina rep what could I carry on My nigga just lost his momma, and his daddy gone |
From now on I can provide cause my paper’s straight |
Family losin his legs, but I can take the weight |
Some niggaz hate but I’ll be damned if they hold me down |
Front niggaz didn’t know me then, bet they know me now |
Blunt and a smile, eventually it’ll be a frown |
Cause every time I turn around a nigga locked down |
While I’m in the world, tryin to bring my loot through |
Hopin one day we can kick it like we used to, my nigga |
Uhh, they never seen 26's on a Hummer |
My goal is to try to fuck Trina by the summer |
Some niggaz hate me, but they only made me Go and put mo’ice in my mouth than Baby (bling bling!) |
G-Unit and Shady, them dudes is crazy |
Next time, we only usin Dr. Dre’s beats |
Fuck you, pay me, take your magazine flicks |
This ain’t no Nelly hurr, take a good look at this |
Got the wrists of a chemist and the heart of a hustler |
Plus I probably done robbed mo’artists than Russell |
Always in trouble, you can blame my mother |
Gave birth to a gorilla and raised him in the jungle |
I ain’t crawled, I stumbled across the Mexican with birds |
Papi had coke and new plates and pounds of herb |
Keep my hand on my glock, and my ear to the streets |
I’m a country boi, you can hear it when I speak |
Bentley is all dreams, G-5 is understood |
I made a nigga heart colder than December (yeah!) |
Don’t take much to make my gun go off |
One shot’ll make a hardrock look oh so soft (woo!) |
If you don’t know you betta ask who I be Or end up in ICU gettin fed through a IV |
Down in the Lou', they say they feelin me derrty |
In New Orleans they say I’m that nigga, ya heard me? |
From them Southside blocks to Watts, Westside don’t front |
You know about them Grapestreet Gangstas, G’d up Rollin that weed up Nigga get outta line, get shot stabbed jacked |
Hit with a bat or beat up Fuck that, we’re on that same bullshit |
Same forty-cally glock, same full clip |
Pussy claat bwoy, ya nah wanna tak wif me |
I’m a real rudebwoy, ya nah wanna ruf wif me |