Listen to Blood Hound (feat. Young Buck) by 50 Cent

Blood Hound (feat. Young Buck)

50 Cent

Hip-Hop/Rap

Music Video

50 Cent - Blood Hound (feat. Young Buck)
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Featured In

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ALBUMGet Rich or Die Tryin' (Bonus Track Version)50 Cent
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PLAYLISTHip-Hop/R&B ThrowbackApple Music Hip-Hop
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PLAYLIST2000s Hip-Hop/R&B EssentialsApple Music 2000s
Listen to 2000s Hip-Hop Essentials featuring 50 Cent
PLAYLIST2000s Hip-Hop EssentialsApple Music 2000s
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Listen to 2000s Dance Party Essentials featuring 50 Cent
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Listen to 50 Cent Essentials featuring 50 Cent
PLAYLIST50 Cent EssentialsApple Music Hip-Hop
Listen to Safe for Work featuring 50 Cent
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Listen to Gangsta Rap Essentials featuring 50 Cent
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PLAYLIST2000s Summer HitsApple Music 2000s

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
50 Cent
50 Cent
Lead Vocals
Young Buck
Young Buck
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Sean Henderson
Sean Henderson
Songwriter
Curtis James Jackson
Curtis James Jackson
Songwriter
D Brown
D Brown
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Sean Blaze
Sean Blaze
Producer
Eminem
Eminem
Mixing Engineer
Sha Money XL
Sha Money XL
Recording Engineer
Dr. Dre
Dr. Dre
Executive Producer
Steve King
Steve King
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

G-Unit, UTP Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha G-Unit, UTP, G-Unit, UTP G-Unit, UTP, 50 Cent Get 'em Buck, man (rrr, hoo!) 50 Cent, that's my name, man, I ain't fucking playing I move on you with that Mac, mane (Mac, mane) Come off that watch and chain 'fore I blow out your brains Shells hit your chest, go out your back, mane (back, mane) See me I put in work, man, I been doing dirt for so long Them niggas get laid out (laid out) Niggas run through my crib to holla at the kid That's when I start bringing them thangs out (thangs out) Then we go through the strip hanging up out the whip Dumping clips off at they whole clique, mane (clique, mane) When witnesses around they know how we get down So, when the cops come they ain't see shit, mane (shit, mane) My soldiers slanging 'caine, sunny, snowy, sleet or rain Come through the hood and you can cop that (cop that) I'm sittin' on some change, G-Unit that's the gang Come through here stunting you'll get popped at (popped at) I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped Love to squeeze gats, but you don't hear me though I love to hit the block, I love my two Glocks Love to bust shots, but you don't hear me though I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped Love to squeeze gats, but you don't hear me though I love to hit the block, I love my two Glocks Love to bust shots, but you don't hear me though I came in this game knowing niggas gon' hate me Just for the simple fact they know that I'm a rider (a rider) I got a hell of a aim, I keep on telling you, mane I swear ain't nobody gon' find ya (find ya) When I get lifted I'm tempted to tear your block up You niggas can't run 'cause I'm behind ya (behind ya) Me and Chili in your city with a couple nine-milli's You better stay in line, bro (in line, bro) 'Cause if I walk it I'll talk it, you know we'll walk up and pop it I love the sound of gunfire, bro (gunfire, bro) Right now we smacking 'em with platinum and they hate it 'Cause we made it, that's what we keep that iron for (that iron for) I represent it 'cause I'm in it UTP until I'm finished, Juvenile, they can't stop us (they can't stop us) And I admit it, I live it I'll knock a baller off his pivot with this motherfucking chopper (baow) I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped Love to squeeze gats, but you don't hear me though I love to hit the block, I love my two Glocks Love to bust shots, but you don't hear me though I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped Love to squeeze gats, but you don't hear me though I love to hit the block, I love my two Glocks Love to bust shots, but you don't hear me though My 20-inches spinning, you always see me grinning And you hear niggas call me grimy (grimy) They hit me with them bricks and I ain't pay 'em shit I'm outta town, they can't find me (find me) When I come back around, man, I'ma back 'em down I run up busting that TEC, mane (TEC, mane) If you ain't got a gun and you can't fucking run My advice is you hit the deck, mane (deck, mane) But if you get away and come back another day My soldiers'll leave you wet, mane (wet, mane) 'Cause we know where you be and we know where you stay And we'll come checking through your set, mane (set, mane) Man, you heard what I said, now get it in your head I ain't paying no fucking debt, mane (debt, mane) 'Cause you's a middle man, what you don't understand? You's a fucking fake-ass connect, mane (connect, mane) I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped Love to squeeze gats, but you don't hear me though I love to hit the block, I love my two Glocks Love to bust shots, but you don't hear me though I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped Love to squeeze gats, but you don't hear me though I love to hit the block, I love my two Glocks Love to bust shots, but you don't hear me though
Writer(s): Curtis James Jackson, David Darnell Brown, Sean D. Henderson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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