Lloyd Banks - Gangsta sh** lyrics

[Intro: 50 Cent] Yeah, n***as talking all that gangsta sh** Acting like my money ain't no good in the hood; you know what I mean? f**ing head blown off, n***a; you know? [Hook x2] They, they talking that That gangsta sh** They ain't about that Man, matter of fact Hand me my strap Show me where they at I'll stop 'em from talking like that [Verse 1: 50 Cent] I'm the topic in every barbershop and beauty salon Cause these other n***as that rap ain't on the sh** that I'm on Cause 50 this; 50 that; 50 stay with a gat Thirty-two shots in the clip, hollow tips in the MAC But when I come through, shh - the talking stop My money long now, I can make the Pope get shot Now, we can blow an hour talking bout the stones I rock Or the hoes I got - catchin' stunts in the drop Now, Nas, you love the kid, 50 on that k**a sh** That big mobster bad man; BGF guerrilla sh** I'm marking my music like diesel on the block So if you with me you gon' eat, and you gon' starve if you not Weed smokers love me like they love Buddha I'll turn your kids to a shooter Crip n***as love me like they love Hoover They tell me see careful good, cause n***as wanna see like you They ain't used to a G like you, BOW! [Hook] [Verse 2: Young Buck] You think you a k**er but we gon' just pay 'em a visit Put the potato on the barrel so nobody hear it I keep a holster on my shoulder like I'm John Wayne Shooting these n***as lights out like LeBron James Holla my name; give me a reason to see you bleeding After you feel these hollow tips, n***a, then we even Full of anger until there's no more bullets in the chamber Ain't nothing like when you get popped and don't know who to blame-a n***a told me, "Do your dirt all by your lonely" So I go hit them n***as 'fore 50 could even hold me I'm waiting, anticipating to put a n***a under Smoking like we some Jamaicans, f**ing with this ganja Ride with no hesitation, retaliation is a must Bad as I want to, some sh** I just don't discuss So point him out and watch I knock him off Everywhere you b**hes go, I got a n***a watching ya'll, motherf**a! [Hook] [Verse 3: Lloyd Banks] Come on, n***a, I ain't here to make no friends; just cut the checks I got a long pump that'll put your stupid a** out the steps Begging n***as don't understand, no Probably cause my hand glow when I'm anticipating' the lambo Lean out my bucket for n***as thinking they Rambo You get one warning, so I suggest you let your man know These rap n***as portray to be tough, nobody acting soft Til they laid out in the hospital, eatin' apple sauce Usually for yapping off and turn apologetic Waving a white flag, for danger they might have My n***as buying so much ammo If you reach in the couch for loose change You'll probably feel on the handle Holding sixteens to get your bandages and broke bones So I suggest you get alarm systems in both homes There's only one team on top; we number one with a Glock f** around and get your dumb a** shot [Hook]