Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Young Buck
Young Buck
Performer
Dawaun Parker
Dawaun Parker
Keyboards
Theron "Neff-U" Feemster
Theron "Neff-U" Feemster
Keyboards
Ron Bacon
Ron Bacon
Guitar
Sal Cracchiolo
Sal Cracchiolo
Trumpet
Steve Baxter
Steve Baxter
Trombone
Greg Thomas
Greg Thomas
Saxophone
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
50 Cent
50 Cent
Composer
Andre Romell Young
Andre Romell Young
Composer
D Brown
D Brown
Composer
H. Kelly
H. Kelly
Composer
C. Otis
C. Otis
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Dr. Dre
Dr. Dre
Producer
Che Vicious
Che Vicious
Co-Producer
Mauricio "Veto" Iragorri
Mauricio "Veto" Iragorri
Recording Engineer
Robert Reyes
Robert Reyes
Assistant Recording Engineer

Lyrics

Yeah niggas, G-Unit in this motherfucker (it's the Unit) Aiyyo 50, aiyyo this nigga barely breathin nigga It won't be long 'fore you dead You wanna run your mouth crazy talkin 'bout me Nigga I come for your head And leave your monkey ass laid out in the street It won't be long 'fore you dead You wanna run your mouth crazy talkin 'bout me Nigga I come for your head And leave your monkey ass laid out in the street I hit your heart you dead, I squeeze 'til the semi run out Niggaz know me good, I'm my hood call me a dumb out I'm the nigga in the hooptie with my hat down low Can't tell that this a hit, 'til the mac-10 blow I got 32 shots, I ain't got to aim I'll wave this bitch in your direction mayne (ha ha) Beams, clips and grips, this a sticky situation (yeah) Adrenaline rush, I squeeze, my heart start pacin' Same glock, same block, same chain, same watch Same six-fo' drop, same nigga on top Don't blame me if your muh'fuckin block get hot 'Cause I'm just tryin to make a livin', nigga stay up outta prison In a position of power In a position where bitch ass cowards can't fuck with ours And just do me, who he, say he gon' sue me? Muh'fucker I got bread (it won't be long 'fore you dead) If you can't hold on, nigga, hold on It seems like it never lasts Always takes so long when you're hit It won't be long 'fore you dead When you wired up in ain't no smilin' See all of 'em whilin', and these niggas is violent Little do you know your time could be expirin' And you know that Reaper comin when that heater start dumpin' Ain't nobody seen nothin, these niggaz is silent From 12th Avenue, all the way to the projects Real niggas, we don't fuck around with the nonsense Murder One shit, that's how it get, muh'fucker what I put the fifth to your head, your white tee turn red Nigga now give up the bread, I'll fill ya ass with lead Put a hole in your wig, with the cig', ya dig? Said fuck the kids, I don't play that shit (c'mon) It's all part of the game, man the game ain't fair The trigger gots no heart, nigga my gun don't care The hammer hit that shell homie you see that flare Your life start to flash, ya dead, nigga who cares? (Yeah!) If you can't, hold on nigga, hold on It seems like an ambulance Always takes so long when you're hit It won't be long 'fore you dead Me and my bitch we break up, we make up, see Jacob for the stones We kick up, that's what's up, 'cause I'm out, with the chrome You fuck up, you get bucked, Buck'll getcha Push a knife through your chest boy I ain't fuckin wit'cha The Unit's my hood, my coke, my weed, my dope My pills, my liquor, my family, my niggas We soldiers, we killers, they know us, they feel us They know we Gorillas, you know who the realest The Unit's my gang, my set, my mac, my tec My protects, my family, do you, understand me? My knife, my gun, my wife, my son My love, my niggas, my stacks, them figures Buck shots, hit his ass from the shotgun blast Black Dickie suit and a fuckin' black ski mask Shoot first, this is how I react and we act Like it's nothin, Ca$hville niggaz used to that Listen If you can't, hold on nigga, hold on It seems like an ambulance Always takes so long when you're hit It won't be long 'fore you dead
Writer(s): Andre Romell Young, Curtis James Jackson, David Darnell Brown, Clyde Lovern Otis Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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