Featured In
Top Songs By G-Unit
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
G-Unit
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Curtis James Jackson
Composer
K. Miller
Composer
M. Bernard
Composer
C. Lloyd
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Pat Viala
Mixing Engineer
K. Miller
Producer
Lyrics
Yeah, **** you so tough
Tough until your heartbeat stop
The tre pound pop, your arteries shot
You bleed into shock, get in the pine box
Damn, you's a hard motherfucker
You so tough
Tough until your punk ass hit
The four fifth kick, the Heckler spit
You in deep shit, oh now your ass sick
You supposed to be hard motherfucker
Bury all your hatin, 'cause hatred will bury ya
Learn not to talk tough talk through your cellular
Fucked, then beef, the president and senator
There is no peace, you're the prey or the predator
While you plottin on me, I'm ten steps ahead of ya
Black forty caliber, I put a infrared on ya
****, I'm special, you mad? 'Cause ya regular
Man, I don't want your bitch, I damn near remember her
Refresh my memory, oh, yeah I slept with her
No wonder she ain't mention you when I met with her
Mind on my cheddar, they'll remember me forever
The groundwork I put in made my lifestyle better and better
I like the fuckin street, bright in the phantom lights
Montana light, two women and my hand is ice
They round the planet twice
But I don't forget where I come from dum, dum, **** tonight
**** you so tough
Tough until your heartbeat stop
The tre pound pop, your arteries shot
You bleed into shock, get in the pine box
Damn you's a hard motherfucker
You so tough
Tough until your punk ass hit
The four fifth kick, the Heckler spit
You in deep shit, oh now your ass sick
You supposed to be hard motherfucker, you so tough
For that China white I lay a **** mama down
We can shoot it out like Frank White did in Chinatown
You know I got that hard white, you know I got that tan and brown
Automatic tre pound leave a **** man down
Murder, murder, homicide, real right **** ride
Gangstas they never hide, thank God I'm still alive
My pocket look like there's cracks on me
My waist look like I got the Mac on me
These hoes on my dick, I got that ass on me
You a RN, regular ****, that rap homie
I'm crack homey, I'm dope money
I wake up and wipe my ass with coke money
C Back, Maybach, my shit two tone
**** run up on that, your ass a tombstone
I'm hood like a group home, ghetto like a pay phone
Jake the snake, I'm low in the hood from? em
**** you so tough
Tough until your heartbeat stop
The tre pound pop, your arteries shot
You bleed into shock, get in the pine box
Damn you's a hard motherfucker
You so tough
Tough until your punk ass hit
The four fifth kick, the Heckler spit
You in deep shit, oh now your ass sick
You supposed to be hard motherfucker
Yeah, I got a knife for a tough ****, nine for a hard ****
Don't make me empty the chamber
Even if I'm locked in the cell block, they fallin' the shell shock
When I open your head with the banger
I 'cause a riot in the yard, make a mess in the mess hall
Like I got just blew trial and I ain't got nothin' left
Girl what's today's s mathematics? Shit ain't addin' up
Get knocked with ten machine guns, only get twelve months
Ooh, wee, don't talk to me, you talk to him, you talkin' to them
I got the best lawyers money can buy
They said they would've got me ten or maybe nine
I said how do you explain how homie Breeze?
They said keep ya mouth shut or you eatin' the cheese
**** you so tough
Tough until your heartbeat stop
The tre pound pop, your arteries shot
You bleed into shock, get in the pine box
Damn you's a hard motherfucker
You so tough
Tough until your punk ass hit
The four fifth kick, the Heckler spit
You in deep shit, oh now your ass sick
You supposed to be hard motherfucker
You so tough
Written by: C. Lloyd, Curtis James Jackson, K. Miller, M. Bernard