Follow Me Gangster lyrics lyrics, Follow Me Gangster lyrics hindi lyrics

Song Lyrics
Follow Me Gangster lyrics
(feat. G-Unit)

[50]
Yeah.. Ja, you ready? Drop that
Ferrari F 50 style baby (yeah, yeah)
I ma show em how I do it (yeah, yeah)
G-g-g-g-g G-UNIT!

I keep hearin niggas is happy, the D s come, niggas wit guns
When I m out on bail, ridin wit some new ones
Big got hit in that passenger seat
Pac got hit in that passenger seat
Now I m ridin round in that passenger seat
Come near the whip, I m blastin my heat
It don t take long, for my juvenile delinquent thinkin to sink in
The consequences mean nothin , those semi auto s is bustin
Crack sellin , predicate villain, spit big words but I can t spell em
Put a shot to your melon, that ll keep you re punk ass from chillin
Then I got that nine and a fo -fo , that H2 is never full
Bullet proof windows and doors, gangsta how bout yours
Southside tatted on my back
My last gun shipment got the whole hood strapped
Now all I got is two 380 s and a nine
Nigga you can knock and tell the cops but you re dyin

[Chorus - repeat 2X]
You re thicker than water
Ouch! twizzy wizzy wa
You re thicker than water
Ouch! twizzy wizzy wa
You re thicker than water
Ouch! twizzy wizzy wa
You can be a Blood or a Crip
Nigga, you bitch
Follow Me

[Tony Yayo]
I used to chill in the hood, to support the fiends
But now I m eatin caviar instead of pork and beans
I m in the money green 7-45, with 7 shots in the fo five
Y all niggas wanna die?
I got a love affair, wit violence and guns
So this is for them gangstas, rep where you from
When I got O d up, my heart turned colder
That s why the mac react like a king cobra
Now I m jumpin out of Rovers, in Gucci loafers
Y all niggas wanna stun? I ll bury you cockroaches
Gimme one year, in this industry
I ll buy enough guns to declare war on a small country

[Chorus]

[Lloyd Banks]
Still walk around wit the hammer boss
Rope and a cross
Hard times ll make a lil nigga hate Santa Claus
Your mountains is high, holdin in Diana Ross
I m like a 2003 banana Porsche
I don t gotta hide sluts, to get your ties cut
They on my dick, cause I make groupies set off a fire truck
My team in the cutt, packin middle things
I got more foreign shooters than the Sacramento Kings
It s 8 class karats in the border
I poke holes in plastic, to avoid a vaginal disorder
I m a savage on your daughter
She ain t in the college dorm
Then I guess I m squirtin on the cabin that you bought her
I m a heavy weed smoker, so the average is a quarter
Brown colored from shit, he established in the water
You got Banks on your jersey, you part of my fan base
Just cause you pour syrup on shit, don t make it pancakes

[Chorus]
Song Lyrics