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G -Unit Lyrics

from Beg For Mercy

"G -Unit" is track #1 on the album Beg For Mercy. It was written by Fritz, Jurgen/bathelt, Hans/jackson, Curtis.
"G -Unit" is track #1 on the album Beg For Mercy. It was written by Fritz, Jurgen/bathelt, Hans/jackson, Curtis.

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Yeah, 50 Cent, Lloyd Banks, Young Buck
G-G-G-Unit, haha

Vacate your home, I come to break your bones
America's nightmare, we at it again
A desert eagle and a black mack 10
And never know what happened
When we come through, them cowards don't want none
They screamin that they murderers but walkin' with no guns

Come here, nigga, dont wanna die where you're standin'
See I'm holdin' on this cannon and your life I'm demandin'
Put the pipe to your melon and your brains on the pavement
These niggaz is talkin', thinkin security gonna save em
Nobody gon speak when homicide pay a visit

Look you right in the eyes and tell ya, "We don't know who did it"
Corrupted by street corner, by shootin' at the police
The fiend's up all night and the neighbors gettin' no sleep
You betta get used to it you know how we do it
Shady Aftermath Interscope and G-Unit

We got action where you don't
Show up places where you won't
G-Unit, G-G-G-Unit

Now I told ya'll on my first Dre joint, I am Loco
Betta than so so, the games in the choke hold
Diss me is a no no, I perfected the slow flow
In D.C. they dance the gogo, in L.A.they ride on lolo's

G-Unit in the house, oh no, you ain't ready, it's heavy
65 Chevy, old school rollin', I'm holdin'
20 inches spinnin', from the beginnin' we winnin'
Gains his masculinity pimpin', we not pretendin'
Drop top glock cocked, ready for the drama
Pistol's pop cop shot, I'm heavy with them llamas

Non-stop, make it hot, we on top regardless
You could be the hardest, we'll just be the smartest
I warn you not to start us, we're not your average artists
My bitch is like a goddess, when paparazzi spot us
'Cause flick after flick, same ol' shit that I kick, haha

We got action where you don't
Show up places where you won't
G-Unit, G-G-G-Unit

Guess who's back, mothafucker? Gun in the clip
Ready to smack up on these suckas that's runnin' they lip
You can try any one of my shoes on, none of em fit
Your hundreds are shorter, I'll tell your pops, his son is a daughter
All I need is some cigars and a quarter a couple cars and a lawyer

Condom packin' a bitch and I'll be back with a hit
I'm that sick, who the hell you thought it was?
I got expensive habits, I can't afford it 'cuz
G-Unit is poppin' and we performin' all the clubs

Niggaz be shovin' and pushin', as someone is gooshin' surpise
She's givin' up the buns on her cushion
Sweatin' and screamin', suckin' me off the rest of the evenin'
And now I'm leavin' on to the next city
Stashbox in the bus so I can bring the techs with me
I gotta go 'cause I'm gettin' older, you niggaz ain't gettin over, G-Unit

We got action where you don't
Show up places where you won't
G-Unit, G-G-G-Unit
Hi-tek niggaz

Songwriters
FRITZ, JURGEN/BATHELT, HANS/JACKSON, CURTIS

Published by
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group

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