g's up

Lyrics

, g's up to every hood and every crew, supposed to have your gun 'round you, and i. claim g unit 'till i die, got it down to a tee, ya'll ain't fuckin' with me, g's up to every hood and every crew, supposed to have your gun 'round you, and i. claim g unit 'till i die, got it down to a tee, ya'll ain't fuckin' with me, who ever it was that said carats is good for your sight, must have never came across a rock this bright i've been hot since mike, first put on the glitter glove, and slid backwards on the stage so give a nigga love, yeah i'm popular, but don't get it fucked up, the uz'll have you shakin' in the club like the bruck up, whats up? with all these wanna be lloyd banks, and toy gangstas, we need to make a remix cause theres some more wankstas, my street team straps mags on they waist, vest under the shirt and black rags on they face, i'm a problem lord can you find a way to save me?, i can't die shit i ain't even had my baby, fuck it its all gravy, if i go i'm cool, death comes for everybody no exception to the rule, i'm a g unit soldier ridin' with my eyes low, funny rims spinnin backwards in a spiral, ya'll know the kid got the game in a jyro, in other words just choke, nigga i'm no joke, how the fuck you sell 4 million records and go broke, how the fuck you take a trip to jamaica and don't smoke, out in l.a. i know a few dimoes and locs, my chain heavy about the weight of a soap on the rope, leave your girl around me too long i'm pokin her throat, soon as she open her coat, bend her over and stroke, g's up to every hood and every crew, supposed to have your gun 'round you, and i. claim g unit 'till i die, got it down to a tee, ya'll ain't fuckin' with me, g's up to every hood and every crew, supposed to have your gun 'round you, and i. claim g unit 'till i die, got it down to a tee, ya'll ain't fuckin' with me, in the town i'm from the tattle tales don't rock like pro keds, the little niggas ride they mopeds, around the dope heads, last on the ball court, you can't even cross over, without poppin a ball, i'm not gonna fall, one year from now i'm in the pop corn azzure, bulletproof glass blockin your boy, glock in the door, i'm on tour, pocket of raw, knockin' your whore, you back home suckin your teeth moppin' the floor, i'm gettin top dollar this ain't freebies, been in the game a year and got two "best of banks" cds, if they ain't mine then i don't give a fuck about 'em, shit r. kelly played with the kids and niggas still bought his album, i learned patience cause it takes time, now my delivery is sicker than mcgrady's on the bassline, none of the teckas wait around, cause i got a roster that'll bring a record label down, i'm a monster i tear the whole track up, my closet'll bar brick on me if i hang another throwback up, i'm flyin back to miami just to do a feature, cause they throwin' paper at me like a substitute teacher, i'm far away from the leeches, they can't even reach us, i'm on the left coast gettin my dick sucked on the beaches, somebody hurl one up everytime that i stunt, and every other verse you hear is a rhyme of the month yeah!, g's up to every hood and every crew, supposed to have your gun 'round you, and i. claim g unit 'till i die, got it down to a tee, ya'll ain't fuckin' with me, g's up to every hood and every crew, supposed to have your gun 'round you, and i. claim g unit 'till i die, got it down to a tee, ya'll ain't fuckin' with me