Follow Me Gangster lyrics

Artist  : 50 Cent 
Song : Follow Me Gangster
 
feat. G-Unit


[50]
Yeah.. Ja, you ready? Drop that
Ferrari F 50 style baby (yeah, yeah)
I'ma show 'em how I do it (yeah, yeah)
G-g-g-g-g G-UNIT!

I keep hearin' niggas is happy, the D's come,
niggas wit guns
When I'm out on bail, ridin' wit' some new ones
Big got hit in that passenger seat
Pac got hit in that passenger seat
Now I'm ridin' 'round in that passenger seat
Come near the whip, I'm blastin' my heat
It don't take long, for my juvenile delinquent
thinkin' to sink in
The consequences mean nothin', those semi auto's
is bustin'
Crack sellin', predicate villain, spit big words
but I can't spell 'em
Put a shot to your melon, that'll keep you're
punk as* from chillin'
Then I got that nine and a fo'-fo', that H2 is
never full
Bullet proof windows and doors, gangsta how 'bout
yours
Southside tatted on my back
My last gun shipment got the whole hood strapped
Now all I got is two 380's and a nine
Nigga you can knock and tell the cops but you're
dyin'

[Chorus -  repeat 2X]
You're thicker than water
Ouch! twizzy wizzy wa
You're thicker than water
Ouch! twizzy wizzy wa
You're thicker than water
Ouch! twizzy wizzy wa
You can be a Blood or a Crip
Nigga, you bit*h
Follow Me

[Tony Yayo]
I used to chill in the hood, to support the
fiends
But now I'm eatin' caviar instead of pork and
beans
 
I'm in the money green 7-45, with 7 shots in the
fo' five
Y'all niggas wanna die?
I got a love affair, wit' violence and guns
So this is for them gangstas, rep' where you from
When I got O'd up, my heart turned colder
That's why the mac react like a king cobra
Now I'm jumpin' out of Rovers, in Gucci loafers
Y'all niggas wanna stun? I'll bury you
cockroaches
Gimme one year, in this industry
I'll buy enough guns to declare war on a small
country

[Chorus]

[Lloyd Banks]
Still walk around wit' the hammer boss
Rope and a cross
Hard times'll make a lil' nigga hate Santa Claus
Your mountains is high, holdin' in Diana Ross
I'm like a 2003 banana Porsche
I don't gotta hide sluts, to get your ties cut
They on my dick, 'cause I make groupies set off a
fire truck
My team in the cutt, packin' middle things
I got more foreign shooters than the Sacramento
Kings
It's 8 class karats in the border
I poke holes in plastic, to avoid a vaginal
disorder
I'm a savage on your daughter
She ain't in the college dorm
Then I guess I'm squirtin' on the cabin that you
bought her
I'm a heavy weed smoker, so the average is a
quarter
Brown colored from shit, he established in the
water
You got Banks on your jersey, you part of my fan
base
Just 'cause you pour syrup on shit, don't make it
pancakes

[Chorus]