G'z Up

[Chorus x2] G'Z UP!, to every hood and every crew U (you), supposed to have ya gun 'round you N-I (and I), claim G-Unit till die got it down to a T (tee), Ya'll aint f**kin with me [Verse] Whoever it was that said carrots (karots) was good for ya sight Must've never came across a rock this bright I been hot since Mike first put on a glitter glove and Slipped backwards on the stage, so give a nigga love Yeah, I'm popular, but dont get it f**ked up The Uz'll have ya shakin in the club like the bruck up, What's Up With these wannabe Lloyd Banks's, toy gangstas We need to do a remix 'cause theres some more Wankstas My street team strap Mag's on they waist Vest under the shirt, and black rags on they face Im a problem, Lord can you find a way to save me I cant die, shit, i aint even have my baby f**k its all gravy, if I go, Im cool Death comes for everybody, no acception to the rule I'm a G-Unit soldier, ridin with my eyes low Funny rims spinnin backwards in a spiral Ya'll know the kid got the game in a gyro in other words, to choke, nigga, im no joke how the f**k you sell 4 million records and go broke how the f**k you take a trip to jamaica and dont smoke Out in L.A., I know a couple Damu's and Loc's My chain heavy, 'bout the weight of soap on a rope Leave ya girl around me to long, I'm pokin' her throat Soon as she open her coat, bend her over and STROKE [Chorus x2] [Verse] In the town Im from, the tattle-tells dont rock like Pro-Keds The lil niggas ride they mopeds round the dope heads Gla*s on the ballcourt, you cant even cross-over Without poppin the ball, I'm not gonna fall One year from now im in the pop ?? Bulletproof gla*s blockin ya boy, glock in the door (jea!) Im on tour, pocket of raw, knockin ya whore (jea!) You back home s*ckin' ya teeth, moppin the floor (laughs) Im gettin top dollar, these ain't freebies Been in the game a year and got 2 "Best Of Banks" Cd's If they aint mine then i dont give a f**k about em shit, R. Kelly played with kids and niggas still bought his album I learned patience 'cause it takes time Now my delivery is sicker than McGrady on the baseline None of the Tec's jus wait around 'cause i got a roster, that'll bring a record label down Im a monster, i tear da whole track up My closet bar'll break on me if I throw another throwback up Im flyin back to Miami, just to do a feature 'cause they throwin paper at me like a substitute teacher Im far away from the leechers, they cant even reach us Im on the left coast gettin my d**k s*cked on the beaches Somebody hurlin up, everytime that i stunt And every other verse you hear is the rhyme of the month, YEA [Chorus x2]