G-Unit, Lloyd Banks, Tony Yayo, 50 Cent - 8 More Miles lyrics

Yeah 50 Cent lloyd Banks tony Yayo g-Unit

This rap shit plays a major part in my life
So if you jeopardize it I got the right
To send a mothafucker at you tonight g-Unit
And I ain't stopping till my clique popping
Swimming in barrels of money
Ma could walk around with her head up
Cause her child ain't a dummy it's funny
Niggas'd rather see you suffering and hungry
I'm comfy as hell skating
With another nigga's money
You lying your ass off
You know you ain't that tough
I'm pulling your mask off as
Soon as you act up you know what I came for
A piece of the game, boy
Artillery that's about as long as a chainsaw
By the way, man
This feels like I've been dreamin'
Forty cal under my pillow


Condom feeling my semen
The physical presence of a female in
The forms of a demon
That's why I fuck 'em and leave 'em
Get my nut while I'm breathin'
Cause they thought they'd catch me slipping
Now I'm ducking and driven
That's a thousand dollar outfit
What the fuck is you rippin'? You tripping
No record could get my ass in position
Death wait's for no religion
Whether Catholic or Christian
Listen, I went through mama bitching
In and out the kitchen with probable cause
It's probably sending 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

You can 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 Yayo"
Picture me being crack, out of town
Trips on the trail "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 fucking country
Wall Street 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 nothing 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
Put me in your doorpanels or your stashbox
Put me in your Nikes, Timbs or Reeboks
If you cop three and a
Half you hustling backwards
Cop a hundred grams, you moving forwards
You trying to move more birds
N PA all day, on the corner of Third
Nigga what?

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 polishing pistols
I'm coming to get you
The shells hit you, you screamin'
Think I'm playing? I mean it
Man, I done bought all these pistols
Lets get it popping start wavin' my emboies
Shell cases get to dropping
If death is around the corner I
Got too much pride to hide
I'm outside, gun in my pocket, just stunting
No stopping i'm dying 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 blessings, clean up my weapons
I'm ready for war, the strong survive
The weak shall perish i told you before
Hoes, they compliment me now like, "50
Nice chain" bellagio, twenty grand of chips
At a dice game
Burn out, can't stop, gotta watch MTV, BET
Nigga, you see me
I wonder if you mad cause I'm doing good
Or 'cause niggas feeling 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 rapping and
You don't bust a gat you pussy

Yeah, explain it to the niggas in your
Hood, nigga they know you fucking fronting
Nigga talking like gangstas on a record i
See you, nigga niggas know me, nigga
Ask around in my hood, nigga
Read the Daily News
Nigga you see them talking
About me, nigga i'm in the middle
Of all kinds of shit pussy
Let's get it popping