paroles de chanson What Up Gangsta - G-Unit

G-Unit, we in here
We can get the drama popping, we don't care
It's going down, cause I'm around
50 Cent, you know how I gets down

What up blood?
What up cuz?
What up blood?
What up gangsta?

They say I walk around like I got an S on my chest
Nah, that's a semi-auto, and a vest on my chest
I try not to say nothing, the DA might want to play in court
But I'll hunt a duck nigga down like it's a sport
Front on me, I'll cut you, gun-butt you or buck you
You getting money, I can't get none with ya, then fuck ya
I'm not the type to get knocked for D.W.I
I'm the type that'll kill your connect when the coke price rise
Gangstas, they bump my shit, them they know me
I grew up around some niggas that's not my homies
Hundred G's I stash it, the Mac I blast it
D's come we dump the diesel in battery acid
This flow's been mastered, the ice I flash it
Jux me, I'll have your mama picking out your casket, bastard
I'm on the next level, Breitling baguette bezel
Benz pedal to the metal, hotter than a tea kettle, blood

What up blood?
What up cuz?
What up blood?
What up gangsta?

We don't play that
We don't play that
We don't play that (G-Unit)
We don't play around

I sit back, twist the best bud, burn and wonder
When gangstas bump my shit, can they hear my hunger
When the fifth kick, duck quick, it sounds like thunder
In December I'll make your block feel like summer
The rap critics say I can rhyme, the fiends say my dope is a nine
Every chick I fuck with is a dime
I'm like Patti LaBelle, homie I'm on my own
Where I lay my hat is my home, I'm a rolling stone
Cross my path I'll crush ya, thinking I won't touch ya
I'll have your ass using a wheelchair, cane, or crutches
Industry hoes fuck us, in the hood they love us
Stomp a bone out your ass with some brand new Chukkas

What up blood?
What up cuz?
What up blood?
What up gangsta?

We don't play that
We don't play that
We don't play that (G-Unit)
We don't play around