「T.O.S.」の歌詞 G-Unit

2008/6/27 リリース
作詞
BERNARD MARVIN,JACKSON CURTIS JAMES,LLOYD CHRISTOPHER CHARLES
作曲
FYFFE TYRONE
文字サイズ
よみがな
hidden
(Chorus - 50 Cent)
(T.O.S.) Terminate on sight, see the muthaf**kas you get right
(T.O.S.) Night or daylight, it's hammer time, got your nine, I got mine
(T.O.S.) I carve you all night, you see my knife,
see you in your next fight
(T.O.S.) Terminate on sight, keep one in the chamber,
walk with the burner

(Verse 1 - 50 Cent)
I'm on that S.S.K. shit, "shoot, stab, kill"
Think I won't get busy? Well nig** I will.
Ain't nuttin to talk bout, just the tape and the chalk out
If we don't pull the strap out, I might go to mac round
Your car door and your window so clapped out
I'll turn you into memories, remember me, the Hennessy
Got my eyes glassy, nig**s try and blast me
With the .38, I'm straight shell flew past me
I'm on it, what am I gon do? Don't ask me.
I'll stand and fizz ya and have your ass on the stand
Groupies on three those muthaf**kas tryna tan me
I'm caked up so nig**s in my hood can't stand me
It's funk 50, I stay in the drama
He love her, I f**k her, she's his baby's mama
She a freak, she give me that
None of them nig** trynna front, I give him the llama yeah

(Chorus)

(Verse 2 - Lloyd Banks)
Everything was slow motion but I think I got the potion
Cuz now that they overdose on that my doors are back open
My Cadillac totin' nig** play with me I smoke em
Murda what what, four three-fo's where I'm from, son
I don't need a gimmick, I'm the sickest nig** in it
Get it upside down and twist it, I could promise you a visit
You a midget, I'm taller than a nig** playin' ball
And me and everybody know me when I'm walkin' thru the mall
I get hot in the mornin', and right before I perform and I been on it
Since a young'n, I'm comin' and here's your warnin' nig**
Don't be snortin', bein' on the pointers is important
Cuz a coffin will follow shortly after the white chalk and
Call me what you want nig**, but you can't call me broke
Call me crack, call me coke, call me uncut dope
See my all-way gas burnin' in my 80 somethin' rope
Time's over for you nig**s, red nine on your throat

(Chorus)

(Verse 3 - Tony Yayo)
Unit!
Who who who who who who want it!
Who who who who who who want it!
Which gangsta want it!
Which rapper want it!
Which trapper want it!
My house is haunted!
And I'm gone!
The FEDs wanna bump me a rat
And I'm the gingerbread man them boys can't catch me
209 M-6 stuck in the matrix, BM got a new front
They probly got a face lift yeah
I treat bitches like cars, I drove em out
And keep a knife tre-pound for when the wounds is out
Cars is Cavalli's, wear the real life vest on
Now keep game like Pelle and Beck on
I got dope head heads, and crack head fingertips (oh yeah)
From baggin' up with my big head ole Atlanta bitch
Every day is Cris (Christ), I live like Santa bitch!
I'm a scrambler bitch, the FEDs can't stand this shit

(Chorus)