G-Unit, Young Buck - Rider Pt. 2 lyrics

Young Buck

Young Buck [David Darnell Brown] ashville, Tennessee, U.S. 🇺🇸

[G-Unit, Young Buck - Rider Pt. 2 lyrics]

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa

I done told you, boy, I'm a soldier, boy
I got no choice but to be a rider
I approach you, boy, with the toaster, boy
Hit you point blank range and fire
I ain't trying to hear shit
I'm supposed to be rich
Motherfuckers getting with my bread
Then I'm 'gon load my shit then cock my shit
Nigga trip, I'll go for your head

I'll have your nigga in an
Ambulance telling you hold on
The choir in your funeral singing you so long
The top shotta, that rock product
The block gotta
Then pop hollows then pop bottles


The whole spot up
The more paper the more strength
We gon' get it
The fo' fifth come with the amp
We ain't missin' i'm back on my bullshit
A verse is a full clip
Catch you with your bitch
Throw a song in your new whip

Nigga, it's G-Unit, fuck your clique
Like syphilis, bitch, you stuck with this
I'm a loyal nigga, die behind mine
Even if 50 drop me I still wouldn't sign
You done lost your mind, bumped your head
Try to stop my shine, but I got bread
And I ain't got time to hear what they said
When I catch them cowards
I'mma bust their head

I done told you, boy, I'm a soldier, boy
I got no choice but to be a rider
I approach you, boy, with the toaster, boy
Hit you point blank range and fire
I ain't trying to hear shit
I'm supposed to be rich
Motherfuckers getting with my bread
Then I'm 'gon load my shit then cock my shit
Nigga trip, I'll go for your head

I'm coming out of Southside, you know I'm raw
Big-ass check, they show our score
I pull the dough out, and roll out
The cream Azure
The fo'-fo' out, I know 'bout the keys of war
I'm hot, five hundred degress or more
My door block an M16 or more
I'm in the store copping shit
You ain't seen before
Black card swipe, green galore

Yeah, I said these niggas stop
Talking then start worrying
The Feds keep coming, the money we burying
I'm in a mean loft, I'm in the cream Porsche
I let that thing off, I turn to Teen Wolf
I drive a spaceship, nigga, 2008 shit
Hermès kicks on, I stay in some ape shit
Niggas on some hate shit, they all get hit
Got the Russian AK, Haitian flag on the clip

I done told you, boy, I'm a soldier, boy
I got no choice but to be a rider
I approach you, boy, with the toaster, boy
Hit you point blank range and fire
I ain't trying to hear shit
I'm supposed to be rich
Motherfuckers getting with my bread
Then I'm 'gon load my shit then cock my shit
Nigga trip, I'll go for your head

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