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What Goes Around
G-Unit Starring Lloyd Banks
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Lyrics
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Yeah, G-Unit
Go G-Unit, come on
I don't know where you from, but out here we ride
So if you scared of conflict, don't come outside
Or learn how to hide, get your hands on a gun
'Cause ain't nobody gon' respect you as a man if you run
Dial 9-1-1
I'm here, talkin' to street now
That's only gon' lead to bullet wounds and beat downs
Retreat, clown, you still strugglin', down to your last rock
G-Unit is guerillas and Black Child's the mascot
You thought you wouldn't hear my voice?
I'm in the hood 'cause I'm hood
You in the hood 'cause you ain't got no choice
The top seller gettin' sticked for his shine
Either I'm blind or Ashanti's thigh burn's is thicker than mine
I'm youngest in charge with my dick in a dime
Grippin' the nine, sippin' that lime Bacardi in a party
I'm sorry, I'm blowin' wet green right at the safari
That'll put you on the left, lean, higher than a Marley
And as far as Charlie, your studio hour is a waste
She look like she took a bag of flour in the face
You want street credibility, instead I'ma sting you
Come on, Ja, you put a fuckin' crackhead on your single
What goes up, must come down
What goes around, comes back around
I suggest you run when you see the Pound
Or get laid the fuck out on the ground
What goes up, must come down
What goes around, comes back around
I suggest you run when you see the Pound
Or get laid the fuck out on the ground
Desert Storm Mixtape Volume 1, stupid)
My cousin bringin' back them blueberry bags
I've been waitin' all day on 'em
And the shell tops, they got Jam Master Jay on 'em
I got a genius in knee-highs that swallows me whole
Her tongue longer than the ones on your Fila's
She buys anything I desire, probably 'cause I'm on fire
The 2003 McGwire until I retire
My neighborhood breed bo's that slam dunk
Crossed over to crack, now they can't even jump
I leave with any panties I want, the industry's new face
I'm in a bitch mouth every morning like toothpaste
Place your bets, your envy, pull out a few crates
I got enough 16's to battle two states
I'm in the spaceship, neck full of gray shit
Baguettes in the bracelet, expect nothin' basic
Respect and embrace it, your sketch in the basement
I'll have you tryin' to find where the rest of your face is
What goes up, must come down
What goes around, comes back around
I suggest you run when you see the Pound
Or get laid the fuck out on the ground
What goes up, must come down
What goes around, comes back around
I suggest you run when you see the Pound
Or get laid the fuck out on the ground
The hoes know I'm lazy as hell, that's why I get the bitch to twist
Dawg, I stay around trees like Christmas gifts
They be laughin' and dancin' 'til they stick you
And have you holdin' your chest like I'm singin' the national anthem
I ain't worried 'bout the repercussions after the tantrum
I be low in a mansion and it's snowin' in the Hamptons
Regardless of what these fools say
I'ma be around longer than Cool J
Armed with a new K, Saddam in a new way
If I don't fuck Monday, I'm gon' hit it Tuesday
My charm get it usually
You put a lot of years into rap and still starvin'
Tryna start your career from the back of a milk carton
You're gassed up from whatever he must've told ya
But everything in army fatigues ain't a soldier
In my upbringing, we wore the same socks
And put buckets in the living room to catch the raindrops
What goes up, must come down
What goes around, comes back around
I suggest you run when you see the Pound
Or get laid the fuck out on the ground
What goes up, must come down
What goes around, comes back around
I suggest you run when you see the Pound
Or get laid the fuck out on the ground
Dial 9-1-1 (Scott Downs)
Yeah, Desert Storm
G-G-G-G-G-G-G-G-Unit
Haha, I dare you to say somethin'
I dare you to say somethin' back, nigga
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