50 Cent, Tony Yayo, Lloyd Banks - True Loyalty lyrics
50 Cent [Curtis James Jackson III]
[50 Cent, Tony Yayo, Lloyd Banks - True Loyalty lyrics]
Unh, yeahi like the way this feel right here
Yoturn me up in the head
Phones just a lil' bit yeah
There ain't shit in this world
Deeper than loyalty and love
Except loyalty and love between thugs
For you I pull up in the
Whip and spray the whole strip for you
I walk up close and lay a nigga's kid
For you
There ain't a damn thing that I won't do
I'm a Thug
This the way I show my love for you
Nigga for you, I get the coke
I'ma turn it into cash
For you, if we go broke
We gon' rob a nigga ass
For you, if we get knocked
I'ma have to take the weight
Cause with a record like yours, doawg
You ain't staying upstate
Nigga for you, I kill a whole goddamn crew
(Why?)
Cause I know you'd do the same thing too
I ride for you, you ride for me
My enemies your enemies
How could you not love a thug like me?
Would you ride for me?
You ain't even got to ask
Would you die for me?
Nigga, they blast you, they blast me
Would you cry for me?
Shit, when I die don't cry for me
Just keep repping Southside for me
Would you ride for me?
You ain't even got to ask
Would you die for me?
Nigga, they blast you, they blast me
Would you cry for me?
Shit, when I die don't cry for me
Just keep repping Southside for me
Nigga, I'm the stem, you the crack
I'm the clip, you the gat
I'm the Glock, you the mac
I'm the artist, you the trap
I'm a pen, you the pad
I'm the Dutch, you the bag
I'm the knife, you the stab
I'm the driver, you the Jag
I'm the ice, you the bezel
I'm grimy, you ghetto
I'm the bow, you the arrow
I'm the shell, you the barrel
I'm a pimp, you a player
I'm dope, you the hustler
I'm a nine, quiet me down, you the muffler
Would you ride for me?
You ain't even got to ask
Would you die for me?
Nigga, they blast you, they blast me
Would you cry for me?
Shit, when I die don't cry for me
Just keep repping Southside for me
Would you ride for me?
You ain't even got to ask
Would you die for me?
Nigga, they blast you, they blast me
Would you cry for me?
Shit, when I die don't cry for me
Just keep repping Southside for me
You can catch me in public
Housing with bundles of D
Or in the Santa Monica mountains
Bundled up to ski
Since time is money I rhyme on the clock
And walk through the strip with
A nine in the ox
You see the ice, you know it's top notch
And when it comes to dice I'm
Seeing shorty to the shot box
Banks stop, guns pop through your tank top
And leave you wet up like a sonar range drop
When I grind I wear the same shit tomorrow
When you grind it's Showtime at the Apollo
Damn near every rapper gotta hot sixteen
Well, my flow's like a hoe that's sixteen
I ran through niggas, dismantled niggas
They mad 'cause they see me in Cancun
Bitches
But I'm ghetto, straight from the hood
My nigga
If there's no toothbrush I'ma use my finger
I got so many minks, and so many leathers
The crib is surrounded by animal protesters
I'm a grown man, still living like I'm young
With the mind of an old man, full of wisdom
Here the cops come, task force van
Rock so much ice I'm called Jack Frost, man
And while we sipping on
Cris' you sipping backwash, man
Your team got heart
But your heart's in my hand
You want sixteen bars in song format
Or sixteen cars on your mom's doormat - what?
Yoturn me up in the head
Phones just a lil' bit yeah
There ain't shit in this world
Deeper than loyalty and love
Except loyalty and love between thugs
For you I pull up in the
Whip and spray the whole strip for you
I walk up close and lay a nigga's kid
For you
There ain't a damn thing that I won't do
I'm a Thug
This the way I show my love for you
Nigga for you, I get the coke
I'ma turn it into cash
For you, if we go broke
We gon' rob a nigga ass
For you, if we get knocked
I'ma have to take the weight
Cause with a record like yours, doawg
You ain't staying upstate
Nigga for you, I kill a whole goddamn crew
(Why?)
Cause I know you'd do the same thing too
I ride for you, you ride for me
My enemies your enemies
How could you not love a thug like me?
Would you ride for me?
You ain't even got to ask
Would you die for me?
Nigga, they blast you, they blast me
Would you cry for me?
Shit, when I die don't cry for me
Just keep repping Southside for me
Would you ride for me?
You ain't even got to ask
Would you die for me?
Nigga, they blast you, they blast me
Would you cry for me?
Shit, when I die don't cry for me
Just keep repping Southside for me
Nigga, I'm the stem, you the crack
I'm the clip, you the gat
I'm the Glock, you the mac
I'm the artist, you the trap
I'm a pen, you the pad
I'm the Dutch, you the bag
I'm the knife, you the stab
I'm the driver, you the Jag
I'm the ice, you the bezel
I'm grimy, you ghetto
I'm the bow, you the arrow
I'm the shell, you the barrel
I'm a pimp, you a player
I'm dope, you the hustler
I'm a nine, quiet me down, you the muffler
Would you ride for me?
You ain't even got to ask
Would you die for me?
Nigga, they blast you, they blast me
Would you cry for me?
Shit, when I die don't cry for me
Just keep repping Southside for me
Would you ride for me?
You ain't even got to ask
Would you die for me?
Nigga, they blast you, they blast me
Would you cry for me?
Shit, when I die don't cry for me
Just keep repping Southside for me
You can catch me in public
Housing with bundles of D
Or in the Santa Monica mountains
Bundled up to ski
Since time is money I rhyme on the clock
And walk through the strip with
A nine in the ox
You see the ice, you know it's top notch
And when it comes to dice I'm
Seeing shorty to the shot box
Banks stop, guns pop through your tank top
And leave you wet up like a sonar range drop
When I grind I wear the same shit tomorrow
When you grind it's Showtime at the Apollo
Damn near every rapper gotta hot sixteen
Well, my flow's like a hoe that's sixteen
I ran through niggas, dismantled niggas
They mad 'cause they see me in Cancun
Bitches
But I'm ghetto, straight from the hood
My nigga
If there's no toothbrush I'ma use my finger
I got so many minks, and so many leathers
The crib is surrounded by animal protesters
I'm a grown man, still living like I'm young
With the mind of an old man, full of wisdom
Here the cops come, task force van
Rock so much ice I'm called Jack Frost, man
And while we sipping on
Cris' you sipping backwash, man
Your team got heart
But your heart's in my hand
You want sixteen bars in song format
Or sixteen cars on your mom's doormat - what?