뮤직 비디오

What Up Gangsta
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크레딧

실연 아티스트
Mike Elizondo
Mike Elizondo
건반
50 Cent
50 Cent
보컬
작곡 및 작사
Rob "Reef" Tewlow
Rob "Reef" Tewlow
송라이터
Curtis James Jackson
Curtis James Jackson
송라이터
프로덕션 및 엔지니어링
Dr. Dre
Dr. Dre
믹싱 엔지니어
Rob "Reef" Tewlow
Rob "Reef" Tewlow
프로듀서
Carlisle Young
Carlisle Young
레코딩 엔지니어
Mike Strange
Mike Strange
레코딩 엔지니어
Mauricio "Veto" Iragorri
Mauricio "Veto" Iragorri
레코딩 엔지니어
Ruben Rivera
Ruben Rivera
어시스턴트 레코딩 엔지니어
Brian Gardner
Brian Gardner
마스터링 엔지니어

가사

G-Unit (What) We in here (What) We can get the drama popping We don't care (What, what, what) It's going down (What) 'Cause I'm around (What) 50 Cent, you know how I gets down (Down) What up, Blood? (What) What up, Cuz? (What) What up, Blood? (What) What up, Gangstaaa? What up, Blood? (What) What up, Cuz? (What) What up, Blood? (What) What up, Gangstaaa? They say I walk around like got an "S" on my chest Naw, that's a semi-auto, and a vest on my chest I try not to say nothing, the DA might want to play in court But I'll hunt or duck a nigga down like it's sport Front on me, I'll cut ya, gun-butt ya or bump ya You getting money? I can't none with ya then fuck ya I'm not the type to get knocked for D.W.I. I'm the type that'll kill your connect when the coke price rise Gangstas, they bump my shit then they know me I grew up around some niggas that's not my homies Hundred G's I stash it (what), the mack I blast it (yeah) D's come we dump the diesel and battery acid This flow's been mastered, the ice I flash it Chokes me, I'll have your mama picking out your casket, bastard I'm on the next level, bright ring bigot bezzle Benz pedal to the metal, hotter than a tea kettle, blood (what) What up, Cuz? (What) What up, Blood? (What) What up, Gangstaaa? What up, Blood? (What) What up, Cuz? (What) What up, Blood? (What) What up, Gangstaaa? We don't play that We don't play that We don't play that (G-Unit) We don't play around I sit back, twist the best bud, burn and wonder When gangstas bump my shit, can they hear my hunger? When the 5th kick, duck quick, it sounds like thunder In December I'll make your block feel like summer The rap critics say I can rhyme, the fiends say my dope is a nine Every chick I fuck with is a dime I'm like Patty LaBelle, homie, I'm on my own Where I lay my hat is my home, I'm a rolling stone Cross my path I'll crush ya, thinking I won't touch ya I'll have your ass using a wheelchair, cane, or crutches Industry hoe fuckers, in the hood they love us Stomp a bone out your ass with some brand new chuckas What up, Blood? (What) What up, Cuz? (What) What up, Blood? (What) What up, Gangstaaa? What up, Blood? (What) What up, Cuz? (What) What up, Blood? (What) What up, Gangstaaa? We don't play that We don't play that We don't play that (G-Unit) We don't play around We don't play that We don't play that We don't play that (G-Unit) We don't play around We don't play that We don't play that We don't play that (G-Unit) We don't play around We don't play that We don't play that We don't play that (G-Unit) We don't play around
Writer(s): Curtis Jackson, Robert Tewlow Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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