50 Cent - Follow Me Gangster Lyrics

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(feat. G-Unit)

[50]

Yeah.. Sha (=Sha Money XL his producer who drop the beat because of that he ask "sha you ready?") 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' them semi auto's is bustin'

Crack sellin' predicate fellon (look at Tony Yayos album!) spit big words but I can't spell 'em

Put a shot to your melon that'll keep you're punk ass from tellin'

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'

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[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 bitch

Follow Me

DID NOT CORRECT HIS PART!!!

[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 older 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

And that's 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]

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