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lirik lagu 50 cent – 8 mile road (g-unit remix)


(feat. lloyd banks, tony yayo)

this rap sh-t plays a major part in my life
so if you jeapordize it i got the right
to send a motherf-cker at you tonight
and i ain’t stoppin’ to my clique poppin’
swimmin’ in barrels of money
ma could walk around wit’ her head up ’cause her child ain’t a dummy
it’s funny, n-gg-s rather see you sufferin’ and hungry
i’m comfy as h-ll, skatin’ wit another n-gg-‘s money
you lying ya -ss off, you know you ain’t that tough
i’m pullin’ your mask off as soon as you act up
you know what i came for, a piece of da game or
artillery that’s about as long as a chainsaw (lloyd banks!)
i’m wide awake, but it still feels like i’m dreamin’
forty cal. under my pillow, condom feelin’ my s-m-n
the physical presence of a females, the form of a demon
that’s why, i f-ck ’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-ck is you rippin’?
you trippin’, on records could get my -ss in position
death wish for no religion whether catholic or christian
listen, i went through mama b-tching in and out the kitchen
with probable causes, papa was in and out of prison
you got soldiers, but you still gotta respect ours
we got more four five’s and nines than a deck of cards

[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-gg-s hate when you do good
but when you broke, your friends and your enemies
they love you, they love you
“cheche, get the yayo”
picture me being crack, out of town, trips on the train
“cheche, get the yayo”
picture me being crack (tony yayo!)
you can sniff me, cut me, i’ll turn you to a junkie
i’m the number one seller in the whole f-ckin’ country
wall street n-gg-s, they cop me on the low
white boys don’t call me c-ke, they call me blow
it’s time to go, on the bus, the train, the plane
i’m smuggled, 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 to a hater
you can put me in your door panels or your stash box
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
i’m tryin’ to move more birds
…in pa all day, on the corner of third (n-gg- what!)

[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
when sh-lls h-t you, you screamin’
think i’m playin’? i mean it
man, i done bought all these pistols
lets get it poppin’
start to wavin’ my m1, sh-ll cases get to droppin’ (c’mon)
if death is ’round the corner, i got too much pride to hide
i’m outside, gun in my pocket, you stuntin’ i’ll stop it
i’m dyin’ to pop it, i’m young and i’m restless, you wanna contest us
as the world turns, there’s lessons to be learned
count all my blessing’s, clean up my weapons
i’m ready for war, the strong survive, the weak shall parish
i told you before, hoes they compliment me now like “50 nice chain”
malasio, twenty grand in chips at a dice game
ballin’ out, can’t stop gotta watch mtv, bet
n-gg- you see me!
i wonder if you mad, ’cause i’m doin’ good
or ’cause n-gg-s 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 ya gat
you p-ssy

yeah, explain it to n-gg-s in your hood n-gg-
they know you f-ckin’ frontin’ n-gg-
talkin’ that gangsta sh-t on a record, i see you n-gg-
n-gg-s know me n-gg-, ask around in my ‘hood n-gg-
read the “daily news” n-gg- you see them talkin’ about me n-gg-
i’m in the middle of all kinds of sh-t
p-ssy, lets get it poppin’

g-unit, ggg-unit, ggg-unit, gggggg-unit, g-unit!