G-Unit – Superville Featuring Kidd Kidd, Young Buck, Tony Yayo & Lloyd Banks Lyrics

(Intro)
Fatality, fatality
Whoo Kid

(Verse 1 – Lloyd Banks
I bet all these classics make the city flip
Drop committees quick
Grip on all my Rocky willie s**t
Knock you silly with
Hammer off my block affiliate
My fascination grew
To snatch your paper crew
Bash your faces too
Toolie kept
Candy at a movie set
Slept on me, I haunt you now
Leather seats, gas and horses round
Passing torches, how
South Jamaican ni**a causing foul
Take that cross the street
Pay me cash and the cost is steep
Ni**a talk is cheap

(Verse 2 – Tony Yayo)
There’s two ways to life, most end up dead or in jail
The lil homies got a craving ass appetite
Water boiling, stove open on them cold nights
And if a ni**a ain’t strapped he ain’t rolling right
Gotta check my rear view for them blue and whites
TD Jake keep preaching bout that street life
He get me going in the morning, got my mind right

(Verse 3 – Lloyd Banks)
I got a bulletproof plan, you understand?
I’ve been through hell already I’m supposed to be the man
Drop Lamb
Lil ni**a on the rise
I body drop em every day and we don’t sympathize
Speeding is my drive, one and only still
Feel like they owe me, will
Get on my O.D kill
If you approach then just know we got the realest s**t
Paper stacks to hurt your feelin’s with
Nothing changed, ain’t hearing it

(Verse 4 – Kidd Kidd)
Ni**as talk behind your back when you’re not looking
Run up on em ask em what’s shaking and get shooking
Ain’t nobody gave me the game I just took it
Then I started my own gang like Tookie
Last thing you seen was the Ryder Gang hoodie
Then toys talk like Woody
I’m hood like an uncle ass whooping
Never got my chain tooken
It’s crack cocaine cooking
Put one in your head like I’m nookie

(Verse 5 – Young Buck)
Apply pressure with this needle to they blood vessel
Supplying what they put inside they straight shooter
Raid outta Texas tryna die, state troopers
Your life’s on the line when you’re selling they Frank Lucas
But my bills on time and my bi**hes even they shooters
Pop a molly with you and put two in your Medulas
These pu*** ni**as programmed like computers
My son got a toolie and a flooded Frank Mueller

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