the kids? Helmets, head gear and mouth pieces! Then we could pad the floor and walls, put cameras inside bathroom stalls We make sure only nice bands
) Yeah, I gotta pocket full of stones 'Cause I fell off my dirt bike in cargo pants I rock a microphone literally Lit up the track lyrically wit' bottles, cans Pop a band
My men think in sync, roll with the best crew Move to the beat of the same drum without Lex Luger Welcome to nay hood, bigger than jects, G Cheated death
uh huh G: because I got it like that A: a ha ha, uh huh G: because I got it like that A: like how? G: like that Verse 2: afrika, mike g No problem, (
You can be my baby and I can be your teddy It's cold out there, but it's warm in here I know you have another lover, but I do not care Verse 2: mike g
but its way to late for complaints an the way alot of MCs feel like dere levelin, yeah i could take usaine in a race ho is it dese counterfeit g's think
you live Know you annoyed but don't make the mistake I'm state to state in that Honda ****, not an Accord I'm in that Honda G4 you will never afford
' sho' This flow is gon' bring more dough And you know but you actin' like you don't know Who run it? You know who this is Shady, G-Unit, Aftermath Lloyd Bands
Crazy Janey and her mission man Were back in the alley tradin' hands 'Long came Wild Billy with his friend G-Man All duded up for Saturday night Well
Texas Line Loved Louisanana and raised on Jabalaya Now before I could walk I had a guitar in my hand by the time I could talk I had my own band Went on
snap through the fishin' line. watch for the hook, Spitta bring it to just on time. On trees, like an ornament at Christmas time, on G's. But don't nothing
tree drinking Hennessy, I'm from Tennessy Juicy J make their way on their own two quarter mill for the Phantom, bitch I own you and that go for every G
if she bad she stayin' with me, Cause' girl I'm a G, I'm a thug, Nothing like your other man, I got a whole bunch of money in this little rubber band (
loaded, world series, that boy hustle smart My city rootin for me the club owners mad cause i wont come to kick it for under 25 bands & u taking it
s Bun B I'm a G, I'm a boss, I grip grain and I sip lean I'm ball all out with the biggest G's and spit and throw the sixteen When it come down to the
Kurt or Captain Nero I'm just trying to get you and your friend to G-O Then I dream voices hit my ski-lo T-shirt, head band, tech-marino Old school throw
that shit niggas let's go I spit dope, boy, knowledge bird in my pocket There's too many hundreds, they can't fit in the wallet Rubber band up, all white