Young Buck, 50 Cent - Hold On lyrics

Gunshot
Yeah niggas, G-Unit in this motherfucker
(It's the Unit)
Ayo 50, ayo this nigga barely breathing
Nigga!

It won't be long 'fore you dead
You wanna run your mouth crazy, talk about me
Nigga I come for your head
And leave your monkey ass laid
Out in the street

I hit your heart you dead
I squeeze till the semi run out
Niggas who know me good in my
Hood call me a dumb out
I'm the nigga in the hooptie
With my hat down low
Can't tell that this a hit
Until the MAC-10 blow
I got 32 shots, I ain't got to aim
I'll wave this bitch in your direction mayne
(Ha ha) beams, clips, and grips
It's a sticky situation (yeah)
Adrenaline rush, I squeeze
My heart start pacing

Same Glock, same block, same chain
Same watch
Same six-four drop, same nigga on top
Don't blame me if your
Motherfucking block get hot
Because I'm just tryin' to make a livin'
Nigga stay up outta prison
In a position of power
In a position where bitch-ass cowards
Can't fuck with ours
And just do me, who he, say he going sue me?
Motherfucker I got bread
(It won't be long before you dead)

If you can hol' on, nigga, hol' on
Seems like an ambulance always takes
So long when you're hit
It won't be long 'fore you dead

When you wired up it ain't no smilin'
See all of them wildin'
And these niggas is violent
Little do you know your
Time could be expirin'
And you know that Reaper comin'
When that heater start dumpin'
Ain't nobody seen nothin'
These niggas is silent
From 12th Avenue, all the way to the projects
Real niggas
We don't fuck around with the nonsense
Murder one shit
That's how it get motherfucker what?

I put the fifth to your head
Your white T turn red
Nigga now give the bread
I'll fill your ass with lead
Put a hole in ya' wig, with the SIG, ya' dig?
Shouldn't fuck with the kid I
Don't play that shit (Come on)
It's all part of the game
Man the game ain't fair
The trigger gots no heart
Nigga my gun don't care
The hammer hit that shell
Homie you see that flare
Your life start to flash, your dead
Nigga who cares? (yeah)

If you can hol' on, nigga, hol' on
Seems like an ambulance always takes
So long when you're hit
It won't be long 'fore you dead

Me and my bitch: We break up
We make up see Jacob for the stones
We kicked up, that's what's up
'cause I'm out with the chrome
You fuck up, you get bucked, Buck'll get ya'
Push a knife through your chest
Boy I ain't fuckin' with ya'

The Unit's my hood, my coke, my weed, my dope
My pills, my liquor, my family, my niggas
We soldiers, we killers, they know us
They feel us they know we Guerillas
You know who the realest

The Unit's my gang, my set, my MAC, my TEC
My protection
My family do you understand me?
My knife, my gun, my wife, my son
My love, my niggas, my stacks, them figures

Buckshots hit his ass from the shotgun blast
Black Dickie suit
And a fucking black ski mask
Shoot first, this is how I react, and we act
Like it's nothing
Cashville niggas used to that listen

If you can hol' on, nigga, hol' on
Seems like an ambulance always takes
So long when you're hit
It won't be long 'fore you dead