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g-unit - i'm so sorry lyrics
[intro]
50 cent uh
lloyd banks uh, (yeah)
young buck uh, (uhu)
game n-gga, g-unit
it’s easy man
it’s easy man
[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-ggers is broke, that’s why they stay ice-grillin’
i’m in the aspens, laughing, snowmobilin’
with a beautiful b-tch, she’s chocolate, athletic
-ss 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, unit stand for ‘u n-ggas in trouble’
better lock and load on the double
g-unit!
[chorus: 50 cent]
i’m so sorry
n-ggers all f-cked 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-gga, 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 gl-sshouse
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 b-tton-up shirts
no harm intended, no subliminal disses
but hard facts separate the men from the b-tches
i would of popped your -ss if i thought you was worthy
looking like boy george in that larry bird jersey
buck p-ss the dutch, i’m blowing that bob marley
hop off the g-4, lets have a boston tech party
g-unit!
[chorus: 50 cent]
i’m so sorry
you n-ggers don’t sound that good when you step in the booth
i’m so sorry
n-gga that it hurts but godd-mnit you know it’s the truth
i’m so sorry
that seeing me do good is making your punk–ss sick
i’m so sorry
that i ain’t got room for all you n-ggers on my d-ck
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-tter, n-gga
i handle bars like a bicycle
scars make your eyes trickle
as stiff as a icicle
the m-fflers silence the lamb, that’s why i whistle
fire your stylists, you know that’s wrong
for letting you put that foot locker n0back on
around here, n-ggers 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-t, i’ll stroke your sl-t
and as soon as her mouth open up, what? same colour as coconut!
[chorus: 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 b-tt
i’m so sorry
you get out of line, i’ll personally f-ck 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-cking haitians come and cut your throat
i still touch the dope
n-gga, my ears to the street
i got some n-ggers 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-tch n-ggers stand out
n0body 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-t is deeper than pr-ck in your thumb
motherf-cker…
[outro]
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