Lyrics:

Another record which emphasises their ability of murdering and seek revenge.
Samples “Vole Vole Farandole” by Paul Mauriat.
Yeah
I like the way this feel
This make me wanna just (G-G-G-G, G-Unit!)
Buck somethin', hahaha (G-Unit!)
Yeah

Nigga you shit on me, I shit on you
You put a hit on me, I put a hit on you
An eye for an eye, nigga
Survive the shots or die, nigga
Get 'em Banks

They can't hold me
I'm Lloyd Banks, the one and only
Not your buddy, not your pal, not your homie
There ain't a government around that can control me
Oh no!

Uh, I'm on that 'Doggystyle' shit, man, I don't love a hoe
Poppa wasn't 'round, so I had to let my brother know
Never stay at center, play the back and let your money grow
Most them niggas wouldn't be around if you was bummy, yo
Southside Jamaica, neighbor, yeah, that's where I come from
If you see a nigga with me, then it's more than one gun
Fly straight, soldier, ain't you tired of bein' the dumb one?
Or are you satisfied bein' another nigga's dunn-dunn?
We all know friendships turn to sour when you gettin' it
Some niggas hate me in the hood, but I don't owe them niggas shit
Smilin' all up my face like I don't know them niggas sick
But I can care less, I'm on the Island, and I'm gettin' rich

Nigga, you shit on me, I shit on you
You put a hit on me, I put a hit on you
An eye for an eye, nigga
Survive the shots or die, nigga

Walk it and talk it, spit it how I live it, nigga
Came from the country—Dirty South, get it, nigga
Feds try and question me, they run up in my hotel
They said there was a shootin', but they found no shells
New York City hell, they throwin' niggas under jails
I got love for them, and I ain't even from there
Now, bust a shot for them boys on the block
I can feel your pain, nigga, I'm still in the game, nigga
It's somethin' bout the sound of a trey-pound
That make me pull up, hop out, and make a nigga lay down
See, every time we 'round, you hear some shots go off
And niggas get they chains snatched when they tryin' to show off
Shootouts in broad day, we do it the mob way
And come to find out these niggas softer than Sade
I'ma keep livin' my life with a pistol in my palm
And a wrist full of ice—you can call me a don, motherfucker

We got the iron
So make one wrong move, and you're dyin'
Ain't no time for coppin' a plea and cryin'
'Cause my niggas ain't gon' stop ridin' 'til you gone

Nigga, you shit on me, I shit on you
You put a hit on me, I put a hit on you
An eye for an eye, nigga
Survive the shots or die, nigga

I got a handgun habit, nigga—front, I'll let you have it
When the shots go off, cops sayin', '50 back at it'
I'm allergic to the feathers on these bird-ass niggas (Yeah)
Front and I'll put your brains on that curb fast, nigga (Woo!)
I ain't a marksman; one spark and I spray shit
'Nough rounds from that H-K—I don't play, bitch (Uh-huh)
Move like I'm militant, back on that gorilla shit
Moody, disrespectful, unruly, but niggas can't move me (yeah)
I squeeze 'til I run out of ammo; if it's a problem, it's handled
I have your people pourin' out liquor and lightin' candles
You fuck around, I blow your brains on my New York Times
Run home, turn to the sports section and read your mind
It's crystal-clear, you should feel when that gat bust
First, there's crime scene tape, then you end up in that black hearse
We don't go to funerals, but we'll go to your wake, fam
View your body all banged up, you made a mistake, man

Nigga you shit on me, I shit on you
You put a hit on me, I put a hit on you
An eye for an eye, nigga
Survive the shots or die, nigga
Nigga you shit on me, I shit on you
You put a hit on me, I put a hit on you
An eye for an eye, nigga
Survive the shots or die, nigga