Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Dźwięk


Interfejs


Poziom trudności


Akcent



język interfejsu

pl

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Polityka Cookie   |   Wsparcie   |   FAQ
1
zarejestruj się / zaloguj
Lyrkit

podarować

5$

Lyrkit

podarować

10$

Lyrkit

podarować

20$

Lyrkit

I/lub wesprzyj mnie w mediach społecznościowych. sieci:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
G-Unit

My Buddy

 

My Buddy

(album: Beg For Mercy - 2003)


[Chorus: 50 Cent]

My buddy, my buddy
Wherever I go, he go
My buddy, my buddy
You can run for your life I'll stick 'em out the window
My buddy, my buddy
I lay your ass out mothafucka is simple
Stay in your place I recommend or say hello to my little friend

[Lloyd Banks]

Everywhere I go I gotta tag along
Cause my buzz getting strong And they mad I'm on
He ride with me when I pass the mall
And wait for me on the bench when I run a game of basketball
One squeeze will make a bastard fall
Gasp and crall
You need a bulletproof vest mask and all
Bring your buddy when it's time to roam (why?)
Cause I got hit the last time I left mine at home
My hand bling full of platinum the shine is chrome
He even got closet space inside of my home
He ain't never been broke he glitchless
So reliable I bought him a rubber coat for Christmas
Infrared beam in the scope for distance
The best company when approaching business
He who ride with me to the end
We all gotta friend
And mine is a G-U-N.

[Chorus: 50 Cent]

My buddy gotta temper he dying to pop off
Last time he did the cops had the block all locked off
Take them with me to hustle stashed him in the trash can
My finger tips sore for four hours I bagged grams
She meet him his destination hell or heaven
Cause I only bring em out for that 187
He don't have a heart I just keep feeding him shells
He get it popping in the hood so his name ring bell
Ms. Jones stay on the third floor she call the cops on me
They came I ran I had to toss my other little homie
Niggas they all got new friends so they stay in there place kid
I stay screaming on niggaz and beating up base heads
These niggaz is lyin they just like they pretend
Keep fucking around they gon say hello to my little friend.

[Chorus: 50 Cent]

[Young Buck]

We been through it all yet we both still living
We been in a box but we both still spitting
And when there was beef you even played your position
Got under the seat until we spotted our victim
At first they wouldn't listen to they heard you go off
Remember it was broad daylight in the middle of New York
And little did they know we was ready for war
Bet that nigga wished he'd never stick his head out the door
See whenever you come out something happen on the block
You the reason that nigga done stop rapping like Pac
People see you ain't run and you even say shit
They just know you ain't nothing to play wit
Stay wit 16 homies and one in the hole
When the first one get out the next one go
To know where your headed you gotta know where you been
The glock stay with me we friends till the end.

[Chorus: 50 Cent]

zrobione

Czy dodałeś wszystkie nieznane słowa z tej piosenki?