DJ Whoo Kid - I'm So Sorry lyrics

[Intro] [Verse 1: 50 Cent] Ayo I switch my hustle, no more dice games, dilemmas You see blood in the snow after the shots in December n******gs is broke, that's why they stay ice-grillin' I'm in the Aspens, laughing, snowmobilin' With a beautiful b**h, she's chocolate, athletic Ass poke out like Serena, ask Banks, he's seen her Plus she's hood - she ain't Hollywood, remind me of Trina D's come, shorty even down to hold out a nina G stands for gangster; You stands for you n******gs in trouble Better lock and load on the double G-UNIT! [Hook: 50 Cent] I'm so sorry n******gs all f**ed up they ain't getting money in the hood I'm so sorry I lied to you, say I let you hold something homie, if I could I'm so sorry {I can't help you out n***a, nah, I could, but I don't want to help you out} I'm so, I'm so sorry [Verse 2: The Game] I'm in that '67 gla**house In and out of lanes Murder on my mind Old English running through my veins I think about Eazy and to ease my pain, I drink a 40oz G-Unit soaking in the rain I came into this world both feet in the dirt No purple label, no bu*ton-up shirts No harm intended, no subliminal disses But hard facts separate the men from the b**hes I would of popped your a** if I thought you was worthy Looking like Boy George in that Larry Bird jersey Buck pa** the dutch, I'm blowing that Bob Marley Hop off the G-4, lets have a Boston tech party G-UNIT! [Hook: 50 Cent] I'm so sorry You n******gs don't sound that good when you step in the booth I'm so sorry n***a that it hurts but goddamnit you know it's the truth I'm so sorry That seeing me do good is making your punk-a** sick I'm so sorry That I ain't got room for all you n******gs on my dick I'm so sorry [Verse 3: Lloyd Banks] A snap of a finger, make your guys cripple I came up with this on the sh**ter, n***a I handle bars like a bicycle Scars make your eyes trickle As stiff as a icicle The mufflers silence the Lamb, that's why I whistle Fire your stylists, you know that's wrong For letting you put that Foot Locker noback on Around here, n******gs get shot for performing that song The hoes cut their eyebrows off and draw them back on They're trying to merk me yo, that's why 50 bought me a Trey Pound with a nose longer than Pinocchio Pop sh**, I'll stroke your s*ut And as soon as her mouth open up, what? Same colour as Coconut! [Hook: 50 Cent] I'm so sorry You ain't from Compton, you ain't got a flow like Game I'm so sorry You ain't Lloyd Banks, mixtape artist of the year man I'm so sorry You ain't Young Buck, you don't let the gun buck, son you bu*t I'm so sorry You get out of line, I'll personally f** you up I'm so sorry [Verse 4: Young Buck] We don't chase no hoes You dream about it while we're making dough I'll have a hundred f**ing Haitians come and cut your throat I still touch the dope n***a, my ears to the street I got some n******gs from your own hood working for me You've got your hand out, can't even bail your man out Real know real, Because the b**h n******gs stand out Nobody gon' miss you when the Desert Eagle hit you Just do like Pac said, pour out a little liquor Picture getting your chest blown open and no one there to save you Your momma got to wake up making funeral arrangements You know who to play with, and we ain't the ones This G-Unit sh** is deeper than prick in your thumb Motherf**er... [Outro]