B-Money - 120 Bars lyrics

Published

0 419 0

B-Money - 120 Bars lyrics

[50 Cent sample] Baby this is real sh** My record sales slow, I'm a show you my dick [The Game] Here the breakdown No 400 bars yet, I don't need that I'm gas, your whole click is a**, I mean that G-Unot co*ks**er, better believe that I say it one time, watch the whole world scream back G-U-N-O-T, now that's for Billboard, rest in peace And since my n***a died, I been stressed, no sleep Contemplating suicide in my Lexus jeep I tried twice but I couldn't make my d**h complete I guess you could say Mya got the best of me Came back from the dead to address the beef Kiss my Converse, b**h, and accept defeat Cause I hate it when bullies try to test the weak That's when I go Bishop in Juice and start flexin' heat You could get it in the stomach just like Raheem Cause runnin' with a snitch is not quite my thing I tried to take Buck with me, but he stayed on the scene Guess all I can do now is pray for Supreme While I finish my next album, five million and countin' Anticipating, tellin' the world I did it without him If Aftermath was a family that didn't have a mother I'd be Dre's newborn, you'd be the jealous older brother Yea, daddy love us but in the meanwhile You talkin' behind his back and in his face you smile You moved out the house, you a failure now And lil' Game grew up to be a problem child I whip ya head boy, that's for Kanye West I whip ya head boy, with the back of my tech Yep, your f**in' group fell flat without me You mad, what you gonna do, rap about me? Your bars is park garbage, hooks is mediocre And your new shoes look like Reebok pennyloafers Try to walk in my shoes a block Hurricanes in stores the day after Christmas, n***a; f** Reeboks You a steroid addict, you need detox Hopefully you make it out in time to be on Detox Cause Black Wall Street expandin', yeah I bought three blocks My CL so smooth, it should've came with Pete Rock And let's not forget who made me hot It was Dr. Dre that took me out the weed spot You want credit, forget it, I did it on my own Gave you 300 bars, then said I'm gone But I'm back, this is rap and a fact is a fact They say once you turn snitch, you never go back Here's a picture of Ja Rule, motherf**er hold that What goes around comes around, get used to the gold plaques Homie got cheese, but he don't feed no rats I show the world my dick if Lloyd Banks go plat I'm lyrically insane, Lloyd Banks know that He told me I was like a Big Daddy Kane throwback Started with one brick, built my own company And don't spread news about it unless it come from me Guess who's the boss, n***a my squad deep But Gla**es Malone is not signed to Black Wall Street n***a don't, don't, don't, don't, don't believe the hype Hear that Mike? And don't be alarmed, this is not a diss But missusing my logo kinda got me pissed And I got enough beef, now Lil' Eazy dissin He don't write his own raps, so I gotta forgive him I got love for ya pops and I always will So on behalf of Eric Wright, my n***a you gotta chill I'm the reason you new westcoast n***as got a deal While I was doin mixtapes, they was watching College Hill For real, you mothaf**as ain't got half my sk** I run this sh** like OJ in pads for the bills Trying so hard to be a gangsta, n***a you seethrough Posing like 50 on the cover of the GQ bu*ton up shirt with the cut off sleeves I got twin Desert Eagles, n***a s** on these I got that CEO flow, yea my bars are sweet Like Hova in Takeover, chewin' out Mobb Deep Like Pac on Hit Em Up, chewin' out Mobb Deep Don't one of you n***as got sickle? f** it, talk is cheap When I see you, and I'm gonna see you I'mma strip you down a**hole naked and that's how I'mma leave you Then I'mma find Havoc, make him walk through Queens nude With Black Wall Street tattooed on his back n***a signed to G-unit, now they bustin' guns But last week it was: "My n***a Game! What up, dun?" See that's what the f** I mean, you can't trust these rap n***as And you wonder why I always say f** these rap n***as So I'mma break it down for MC's and friends If you don't hear your name, let the beef begin Ain't got sh** against Hov, I like the n***a's style Nas is my n***a, I been bangin' him for a while I f** with Fat Joe, he got the streets locked And thats the same reason I f** with Kiss and D-Block Place Eminem in the number three spot And Snoop is like my big brother, we both raised by the Doc Young Jeezy you hot, we both new to this While I'm in the ATL, shout out to Ludacris Cause your uncle Scarface show me that crime pays Just like Paul Wall got me sittin' sideways And I can't forget about the homie Mike Jones Who? Mike Jones, Skeet screw the f**in' song I f** with Slim Thug and my n***a Bun B Can't do that without saying free Pimp C And thats the reason why 50 try to pimp me So I went window shoppin' and bought two Bentleys I'm in the drivers seat, motherf**er don't tempt me Turnin' Spider Loc against me, cause your scared to come get me Cuz know whats up, Bloods still got love for 'em Come to the block, I'll shake off the rug for 'em As for G-unit, motherf**er it's a wrap Ma$e made it out alive, thank God for that If Dipset don't get you, Jesse Jackson will And if all else fails, I'll see you in hell Wear that G-unit spinner when you come to L.A I have a n***a parkin' cars, dressed up like valet He gonna turn back pastor when the gun in his face The real chain still in Chicago but I'm takin the fake You can call who you want, I ain't givin back sh** Unless Olivia show the whole world she got a dick Can't sing to save her life, but she talk a lot of sh** And I want my ten G's cause Yayo caught a brick I guess my G-Unot tattoo was a smart move Cause in the end you lost a hundred mill to a cartoon Three years after you got tatted by Cartoon The beef is over, G-Unit gonna fall apart, soon Hahahahaha f*ggot a** n***as I guess I win n***a Life is a game of chess n***a Some king, some queens Lloyd Banks, Tony Yayo, Young Buck, Pastor f**in' Ma$e You n***as is pawns 50, or Boo Boo, or Curtis, or Chicken Little, hahaha Stop Snitchin–Stop Lyin in stores December 6th The DVD, it's a tell all motherf**ers Yeah, my documentaries be better than your movies n***a, hahaha I drove by your house n***a Go buy the DVD, $16.99 n***a At your local record store, Blockbuster, Sam Goody, Warehouse Shout out to the moms and pops, for helping me slay them f*ggots G-gu-g-g-gu, G-gu-g-g-gu, G-gu-g-g-gu, G-Unot! Hahahaha Pop off n***a, hahahaha, pop off n***a, pop off It's me, The G-A-M-E, gone

You need to sign in for commenting.
No comments yet.