Rider Pt. 2 (Feat. Young Buck)

G-Unit
G-Unit - Rider Pt.2 (Feat. Young Buck)  (T.O.S ,2008)

Whoa Whoa Whoa Whoa Whoa !!!

Whoa Whoa Whoa Whoa Whoa !!!

50CENT

I done told You boy I'm a soldier boy

I got no choice but to be a riiida

I approach You boy with the toaster boy

Get to point blank range and fiiiya

I ain't tryin to hear shit I'm supposed to br rich

Mu fucka get in the way of my bread

Then I'm gon load my shit then cook my shit

Nigga trip I'll come for yo head

I'll have your nigga in an ambulance tellin ya hold on

The choir in your funeral singin You so long

The top shotta that rock produst the block gotta

Then pop hollows then pop bottles the whole spot up

The mo' paper the mo' 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 bowl Throw a song to her dude this is

Young Buck

(Slow motion) G-Unit(Regular speed) Fuck Your click

Like syphillis Bowl You stuck with this

I'm a loyal nigga nigga,(Regular speed) Die behind mine

Even if so drop me I still Wouldn't sign

You done lost Yo' mind , Bumped yo'head

Try to stop my shine but i got bread

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'm a buss they head

Lloyd Banks

I'm coming out of south-side, You know I'm raw

Big ass check, dey show our score

Pull the dough out, and roll out, the kreamizore

Fo'Fo out , I know bout, The keys of war

I'm hot five hunnid degrees or more

My do' Block a M-16 or more

I'm in the store copin shit U ain't seen before

Black card swipe,(Yeh) We galore(Yeh)

Tony Yayo

I said these niggas stop talkin then start worryin

The FEDS keep comin' the money we burryin

I'm in a mean loft , I'm in tha cream porshe

I let that thing off, then turn to T-Wolf

I drive a space ship, Nigga 2008 shit

Hermaide kicks on I stay In some ape shit

Niggas on some ape shit, they all grt hit

Got the russian AK , Haitian flag on the clip

Nah muh Fucka , this shit ain't done

Think about what I'll do to ya, ya pick on bun

Then the torpedo shit wanna gimme a gun

Let the beam tan him up like he sat in the sun

I'm bout my bread, I'll hit ya for crumbs

In the streets I'm like a catholic ya can' get none (hahahaha)

Poppin off for practice cuz this ain't calm

Bout to eat ya food up like thiss free lunch

The parkin lost support supply when I pop that trunk

Then Ya feelin cross the settle cuz the shit don't bump

Kid rock a semi-auto when my shit dump

Hit 16 seribellums wit that pump (Bitch)

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