G-unit - 8 More Miles lyrics

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G-unit - 8 More Miles lyrics

[Intro: 50 Cent] Yeah..50 Cent Lloyd Banks Tony Yayo G-UNIT! [Verse 1: Lloyd Banks] This rap sh** plays a major part of my life So if you jeapordize it I got the right To send a mothaf**a at you tonight G-Unit! And I ain't stoppin' to my clique poppin' Swimmin' in barrels of money Ma could walk around wit' a head up and challenge you dummy It's funny, n***as rather see you sufferin' and hungry I'm hungry as hell, skatin' with another n***a's money Take your hats off, you know you ain't that tough I'm callin' your bets off as soon as you act up You know what I came for, it isn't the game ball Artillary that's about as long as a chainsaw (Lloyd Banks!) By the way, this feels like I'm dreamin' Forty cal. under my pillow, condom feelin' my semen The physical presence of a female, form of a demon That's why, I f** 'em and leave 'em Get my nut while I'm breathin' Cause they thought they'd catch me slippin', now I'm duckin' and Trippin' That's a thousand dollar outfit what the f** is you rippin'? You trippin', more records could get my a** in position d**h wish for no religion whether Catholic or Christian Listen, I went through my ambition in and out the kitchen With probable cause, it's probably sendin' out to prison You got soldiers, but you still gotta respect ours We got more four five's and nines than a deck of cards [Verse 2: Tony Yayo] You can take me out the 'hood But can't take the 'hood out me (Cause what?) Cause I'm ghetto, I'm ghetto n***as hate when you do good But when you broke, your friends and your enemies They love you, they love you "Cheche, get the llello" Picture me being crack, out of town, trips on the trail "Cheche, get the Yayo" Picture me being crack (Tony Yayo!) You can sift me, cut me, I'll turn you to a junkie I'm the number one seller in the whole f**in' country Wallstreet n***as, they cop me on the low White boys don't call me coke, they call me blow It's time to go, on the bus, the train, the plane I'll smuggle, I'm nothin' but trouble I'll make your money double Cook me in baking soda I'll turn your Hooprock into a new Range Rover I'll pay all your bills and fill your 'frigerator Feed your family, turn your man into a hater Put me in your doorpanels or your stashbox Put me in your Nike's, Timbs or Reeboks If you cop three and a half you hustlin' backwards Cop a hundred grams, you movin' forwards You tryin' to move more birds N PA all day, on the corner of Third [Verse 2: 50 Cent] You can take me out the 'hood But can't take the 'hood out me (what?) Cause I'm ghetto, I'm ghetto Picture me polishin' pistols, I'm comin' to get you The shells hit you, you screamin' Think I'm playin'? I mean it Man, I done bought all these pistols Lets get it poppin' Start wavin' my emboies shell cases get the droppin' (C'mon) Like if it's down the corner, I got too much pride to hide I'm outside, gun in my pocket just stunnin' I'm stoppin' I'm dyin' to pop it, I'm young and I'm restless, you know my Contestants As the world turns, there's lessons to be learned Count all my blessin's, clean up my weapons I'm ready for war, the strong survive, the weak will parish I told you before, hoes they compliment me now like "50 nice chain" Malasio, twenty grand in chips at a dice game Burn out, can't stop gotta watch MTV, BET n***a you see me! I wonder if you mad, cause I'm doin' good Or cause n***as feelin' me more than you in your own 'hood And it hurts cause you love 'em and they don't love you back Cause they know you just rappin' and you don't bust a gat You p**y [Outro: 50 Cent] Yeah, explain it to n***as In your hood n***a They know you f**in' frontin' n***a Talkin' like gangstas on a record, I see you n***a n***as know me n***a, ask around in my 'hood n***a Read the Daily News, n***a You see them talkin' about me n***a I'm in the middle of all kinds of sh** p**y, lets get it poppin' G-G-Unit, G-G-Unit, G-G-G-Unit G-G-G-G-G-G-Unit, G-Unit!