Lyrics G-Unit - G-Unit

G-Unit

Yeah!
50 Cent, Lloyd Banks, Young Buck
Haha
Vacate ya home, I come to break ya bones
America’s nightmare (yeah!), we at it again (c'mon)
A Desert Eagle and a black MAC-10
They’ll never know what happened
When we come through, them cowards don’t want none
They screamin' that they murderers, but walkin' with no guns
C’mere nigga, don’t run or die where you standin'
See I’m holdin' on this cannon and your life I’m demandin'
Put the pipe at your melon and your brain’s on the pavement
These niggas is talkin', thinkin' security gon' save them
Nobody gonna speak when homicide pay a visit
Look you right in the eyes and tell you «We don’t know who did it»
Corruptin' my street corner by shootin' at the police
The fiends up all night and the neighbors gettin' no sleep
You better get used to it, you know how we do it
Shady/Aftermath, Interscope and G-Unit
We got action where you don’t
Show our faces where you won’t
(Geeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-Uuuu-oooo-Nit!)
Man I told y’all on my first Dre joint — I am loco
Better than so-so, the game’s in the choke hold
Diss me’s a no-no, I perfected the slow flow
In D.C. they dance to go-go, in L.A. they ride on lo-lo's
G-Unit in the house, oh no
You ain’t ready, it’s heavy, '65 Chevy
Old-school rollin', I’m holdin'
Twenty inches spinnin from the beginnin', we winnin'
Gained this masculinity we pimpin', we not pretendin'
Drop-top, Glock cocked, ready for the drama
Pistols pop, cop shot, I’m heavy with them llamas
Non-stop, make it hot, we on top regardless
You can be the hardest, we’ll just be the smartest
I warn you not to start us, we not your average artists
My bitch is like a Goddess, when paparazzi spot us
It’s flick after flick, same old shit that I kick
Hah hah!
We got action where you don’t
Show our faces where you won’t
(Geeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-Uuuu-oooo-Nit!)
Guess who’s back motherfucker — gun and a clip
Ready to smack up on these suckers that’s runnin' they lip
You can try any one of my shoes on — none of 'em fit
Your hundreds is shorter, I tell ya paps his son is a daughter
All I need is some cigars and a quarter
A couple cars and a lawyer
Kinda packin' a bitch, and I’ll be back with a hit
I’m that sick, who the hell you thought it was?
I got expensive habits, I can afford it 'cause
G-Unit is poppin' and we perform in all the clubs
Niggas be shovin' and pushin' now someone is gushin', surprise
She’s givin' up the buns on the cushion, sweatin' and screamin'
Suckin' me off the rest of the evenin' and I’m leavin'
On to the next city
Stash box in the bus so I can bring them TECs with me
I gotta blow 'cause I’m gettin' older
You niggas ain’t gettin' over
We got action where you don’t
Show our faces where you won’t
(Geeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-Uuuu-oooo-Nit!)
Hi-Tek, nigga