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G-Unit lyrics : "Eye For An Eye"

[50 Cent]Yeah, I like the way this feelThis make me wanna just (G-G-G-G, G-Unit!)Buck somethin, hahaha (G-UNIT!)[Chorus: 50 Cent]^!$$% you %#@! on me, I %#@! on youYou put a hit on me, I put a hit on youAn eye for an eye ^!$$%Survive the shots or die ^!$$%[50] Get 'em Banks![Verse One: Lloyd Banks - singing]They can't hold meI'm Lloyd Banks the one and on-lyNot your buddy, not your pal, not your ho-meyBut ain't a government around that can control meOh no!!![rapping]Uhh, I'm on that "Doggystyle" %#@!, man I don't love a hoePoppa wasn't 'round, so I had to let my brother knowNever stay at center, play the back and let your money growMost them ^!$$%z wouldn't be around if you was bummy yoSouthside Jamaica neighbor yeah that's where I come fromIf you see a ^!$$% with me then there's more than one gunFly straight soldier, ain'tcha tired of bein the dumb oneOr are you satisfied bein another ^!$$%'s Dun-DunnWe all know friendships turnin sour when you gettin itSome ^!$$%z hate me in the hood, but I don't owe them ^!$$%z %#@!Smilin all up my face like I don't know them ^!$$%z sickBut I can care less, I'm on the Island and I'm gettin rich[Chorus][Verse Two: Young Buck]Walk it and talk it, spit it how I live it ^!$$%Came from the country, Dirty South get it ^!$$%Feds try and question me, they run up in my ho-telThey said there was a shootin, but they found no shellsNew York City hell they throwin ^!$$%z under jailsI got love for dem and I ain't even from dereNow bust a shot for dem boys on da blockI can feel your pain ^!$$%, I'm still in the game ^!$$%There's somethin bout the sound of a trey-poundThat make me pull up, hop out, and make a ^!$$% lay downSee every time we 'round, you hear some shots go offAnd ^!$$%z get they chains snatched when they tryin to show offShootouts in broad day, we do it the mob wayAnd come to find out, these ^!$$%z softer than Sade'I'ma keep livin my life with a pistol in my palmAnd a wrist full of ice, you can call me a Don mother$#&@er[Interlude: singing]We got the Hei-nySo make one wrong move and you're dy-ingAin't no time for coppin a plea and cry-ingCause my ^!$$%z ain't gon' stop ridin'So you gone[Chorus][Verse Three: 50 Cent]I got a handgun habit, ^!$$% front I'll let you have itWhen the shots go off, cops sayin 50 back at itI'm allergic to the feathers on these bird-ass ^!$$%z (yea)Front and I'll put your brains on that curb fast ^!$$%I ain't a marksman, one spark and I spray %#@!Nuff rounds from that H-K, I don't play (*##$ (uh-huh)Move like I'm militant, back on that gorilla %#@!Moody, disrespectful, unruly, but ^!$$%z can't move me (yea)I squeeze 'til I run out of ammo, if it's a problem it's handledI have your people pourin our liquor and lightin candlesYou $#&@ around I blow your brains on my New York TimesRun home, turn to the sports section and read your mindIt's crystal clear, you should feel when that gat bustFirst there's crime scene tape, then you end up in that black hearseWe don't go to funerals, but we'll go to your wake famDo your body all banged up, you made a mistake man[Chorus]

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