Nigger Unit

50 Cent

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    [into]
    Yeah, listen to me nigger, you'll want to dive in!

    [verse1]
    Can I get the Benz or Lambo
    You already know my rhymes and ammo
    I blowing the smoke coming out of gun and candle
    I'll leave you lying on the floor
    You finish and gable
    You have to believe in my fables
    The feds try to clip my Motorola
    When I'm enjoying my Corolla
    In search of my head
    Some Niggas pay
    Run behind your money nigga, this is one of the ways
    I have spent much time in jail
    This ruin of bricks can go at any time to donw
    I make hot, I make hot, do not stop
    Shaken in Tokyo, in London we pop
    So I want
    Kissing my summer-gun
    Ending with the fanatics in Ramadan
    YEAH!

    [chorus]
    There is still soft, hard is your toft
    Take that soldier boy
    Pistols the dangerous toy
    Let all the joy

    [hook]
    Motherfucka knows the unit of nigger
    Damn, now I'm killer

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    [verse2]
    Yea nigger get around to your girlfriend
    The free G-Unit, who you'll blame
    This is our game
    Yea the southside will bang
    New song, new rhymes
    New figures from the crime
    Jeep matte black, down the street
    The bitch out of his car his weak
    Putting your foot off the line kid
    That is our base, has no where to hide
    You can't cry, you should cry
    Position of the star is our life
    Our good life!

    [chorus]
    There is still soft, hard is your toft
    Take that soldier boy
    Pistolis the dangerous toy
    Let all the joy

    [hook]
    Motherfucka knows the unit of nigger
    Damn, now I am killer

    [verse3]
    OK! I'm so tasty as a chocolate cream
    I trained the dream tean
    Into in my convertible with that jeans
    I'm the winner, I'm your dream
    50 Cent the rap king
    Touching the sky, flying in my horse
    I'll show my force
    In my gray lead Porsche
    In remembering the old days club
    Turning the cap back and chewing bub
    Leather shoes, Italian suits are 'shows'
    Diamonds bracelets and platinum pistols
    Bentleys in the door, photographers in the dark
    Michael Jackson is wanted in my place, I'MA STAR!
    Running into a car
    Clothing Gala over the waistcoat of war
    Doped to wiskhy, falling leg of the bitch
    So I'm known as killer 50
    YEAH!

    [chorus]
    There is still soft, hard is your toft
    Take that soldier boy
    Pistolis the dangerous toy
    Let all the joy

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Curtis J. Jackson

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