8 More Miles

This rap sh*t plays a major part of my life

So if you jeapordize it I got the right

To send a mothaf**ka 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

Niggas rather see you sufferin' and hungry

I'm hungry as hell

Skatin' with another ni**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

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**k '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**k is you rippin'

You trippin'

More records could get my a** in position

Death 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

Take me out the 'hood

But can't take the 'hood out me

'Cause what

'Cause I'm ghetto I'm ghetto

Niggas 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

You can sift me cut me

I'll turn you to a junkie

I'm the number one seller

In the whole f**kin' country

Wallstreet niggas

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 Nik'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

In PA all day on the corner of Third

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

Let's 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 ni**a you see me

I wonder if you mad 'cause I'm doin' good

Or 'cause niggas 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**sy

Yeah explain it to niggas in your hood ni**a

They know you f**kin' frontin' ni**a

Talkin' like gangstas on a record

I see you ni**a

Niggas know me ni**a

Ask around in my 'hood ni**a

Read the Daily News ni**a

You see them talkin' about me ni**a

I'm in the middle of all kinds of sh*t

P**sy let's get it poppin'

G G Unit

G G Unit

G G G Unit

G G G G Unit

8 More Miles - 50 Cent