Uh! I'm doin' my thang (I'm doin' my thang)
G-Unit's my gang (G-Unit's my gang)
Ma I gotta get mine (Ma I gotta get mine)
All the day all the time (All the day all the time)
Nigga you know how we roll (Nigga you know how we roll)
Twenty three's twenty four's (Twenty three's twenty four's)
I'm holdin' my ground (I'm holdin' my ground)
In case somethin' goes down (In case somethin' goes down)

Uh! Yeah don't fall for a big butt and a smile
They set ya up you fuck around have to buck in the crowd
Around my way, ain't sunshine ev'ryday
Niggas'll cross ya, you should hear the slang they say
In a land of attitudes A-K's and accidents
Where niggas split blunts eight ways and pack the bitch
Mama spit me out with a spindle and I been mackin' since
And I'm stubborn, so I don't lean back and flinch
Your perpetratin', embarrasin' the crooks
Plus your frontin' they only seen Paris in the books
Whenever you leave the bricks watch the niggas you roll with
Before you know it niggas be shootin' up yo' shit
The clubs a fashion show, so niggas go get
And rev up all the broke niggas rockin' they old shit
Before the night is done they be another murder
Put your money to the side for another burner

[Chorus]
(Stranger) Don't bring 'em 'round if I don't know 'em like that
I feel like it's targets all over my back
Because of these broads that's layin' over my lap
A nigga that young ain't 'sposed to live like that
I just saw the dealer and I'm goin right back
Stashin' my guns cause I know they might rat
I'm doin' my thang (I'm doin' my thang)
G-Unit's my gang (G-Unit's my gang)

Uh! I'm frontin' in my G62's the yellow and royal blues
I'm better than all you dudes hot metal for all you fools
The one that niggas admire many study all my moves
And I'm focused, cause I'm a end up bloody if I snooze
You a sucker for love, or maybe I'm a bit different
If you ask me, is your baby mama's a pigeon?
I just bought the mansion and ma dukes pop the ribbon
And I'm out poppin' Cris bitch I'll show you how I'm livin'
I keep havin' them dreams bout niggas gettin' the drop on me
Lettin' them things fly up and down the block for me
True fear niggas don't feel ya they triflin'
But I adapt, cause I used to think just like 'em
As soon as I hit the top I noticed the sudden change
It's probably the Maserati, Ferrari, yeah the Range
This is Southside street talk the hood slang
And my product, a open your nose like good Caine

[Chorus]

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): CHRISTOPHER CHARLES LLOYD, MICHAEL J. CLERVOIX, NICHOLAS MARCELL SPEED