8 More Miles Lyrics

8 More Miles lyrics

[50 Cent]
Yeah..50 Cent, Lloyd Banks, Tony Yayo
G-UNIT!

[Lloyd
Banks]
This rap shit plays a major part of my life
So if you jeapordize
it I got the right
To send a mothafucka at you tonight
G-Unit! And I
ain't stoppin' to my clique poppin'
Swimmin' in barrels of money
Ma could
walk around wit' a head up and challenge you dummy
It's funny, niggas rather
see you sufferin' and hungry
I'm hungry as hell, skatin' with another
nigga's money
Take your hats off, you know you ain't that tough
I'm
callin' your bets off as soon as you act up
You know what I came for, it
isn't the game ball
Artillary that's about as long as a chainsaw (Lloyd
Banks!)
By the way, this feels like I'm dreamin'
Forty cal. under my
pillow, condom feelin' my semen
The physical presence of a female, form of a
demon
That's why, I fuck 'em and leave 'em
Get my nut while I'm
breathin'
'Cause they thought they'd catch me slippin', now I'm duckin'
and
trippin'
That's a thousand dollar outfit what the fuck is you
rippin'?
You trippin', more records could get my ass in position
Death
wish for no religion whether Catholic or Christian
Listen, I went through my
ambition in and out the kitchen
With probable cause, it's probably sendin'
out to prison
You got soldiers, but you still gotta respect ours
We got
more four five's and nines than a deck of cards

[Tony Yayo]
You can
take me out the 'hood, but can't take the 'hood out me
('Cause
what?)
'Cause I'm ghetto, I'm ghetto
Niggas hate when you do
good
But when you broke, your friends and your enemies
They love you,
they love you
"Cheche, get the llello"
Picture me being crack, out of
town, trips on the trail
"Cheche, get the Yayo"
Picture me being crack
(Tony Yayo!)
You can sift me, cut me, I'll turn you to a junkie
I'm the
number one seller in the whole fuckin' country
Wallstreet niggas, they cop
me on the low
White boys don't call me coke, they call me blow
It's time
to go, on the bus, the train, the plane
I'll smuggle, I'm nothin' but
trouble
I'll make your money double
Cook me in baking soda
I'll turn
your Hooprock into a new Range Rover
I'll pay all your bills and fill your
'frigerator
Feed your family, turn your man into a hater
Put me in your
doorpanels or your stashbox
Put me in your Nik's, Timbs or Reeboks
If you
cop three and a half you hustlin' backwards
Cop a hundred grams, you movin'
forwards
You tryin' to move more birds
...In PA all day, on the corner of
Third

[50 Cent]
You can take me out the 'hood, but can't take the
'hood out me (what?)
'Cause I'm ghetto, I'm ghetto
Picture me polishin'
pistols, I'm comin' to get you
The shells hit you, you screamin'
Think
I'm playin'? I mean it
Man, I done bought all these pistols
Lets get it
poppin'
Start wavin' my emboies shell cases get the droppin' (C'mon)
Like
if it's down the corner, I got too much pride to hide
I'm outside, gun in my
pocket just stunnin' I'm stoppin'
I'm dyin' to pop it, I'm young and I'm
restless, you know my
contestants
As the world turns, there's lessons to
be learned
Count all my blessin's, clean up my weapons
I'm ready for war,
the strong survive, the weak will parish
I told you before, hoes they
compliment me now like "50 nice chain"
Malasio, twenty grand in chips at a
dice game
Burn out, can't stop gotta watch MTV, BET
Nigga you see
me!
I wonder if you mad, 'cause I'm doin' good
or 'cause niggas feelin'
me more than you in your own 'hood
And it hurts 'cause you love 'em and they
don't love you back
'cause they know you just rappin' and you don't bust a
gat
You pussy

Yeah, explain it to niggas in your hood nigga
They
know you fuckin' frontin' nigga
Talkin' like gangstas on a record, I see you
nigga
Niggas know me nigga, ask around in my 'hood nigga
Read the "Daily
News" nigga you see them talkin' about me nigga
I'm in the middle of all
kinds of shit
Pussy, lets get it poppin'

G-G-Unit, G-G-Unit,
G-G-G-Unit, G-G-G-G-G-G-Unit, G-Unit!