[Chorus x2]
G'Z UP!, to every hood and every crew
U (you), supposed to have ya gun 'round you
N-I (and I), claim G-Unit till die
Got it down to a T (tee), Ya'll ain't fuckin with me

[Verse 1]
Whoever it was that said carrots (karats) was good for ya sight
Must've never came across a rock this bright
I been hot since Mike first put on a glitter glove and
Slipped backwards on the stage, so give a n***a love
Yeah, I'm popular, but don't get it fucked up
The Uz'll have ya shakin' in the club like the bruck up, what's up
With these wannabe Lloyd Banks's, toy gangstas
We need to do a remix 'cause there's some more Wankstas
My street team strap Mag's on they waist
Vest under the shirt, and black rags on they face
I'm a problem, Lord can you find a way to save me
I can't die, shit, I ain't even have my baby
Fuck it's all gravy, if I go, I'm cool
Death comes for everybody, no exception to the rule
I'm a G-Unit soldier, ridin' with my eyes low
Funny rims spinnin backwards in a spiral
Ya'll know the kid got the game in a gyro
In other words, to choke, n***a, I'm no joke
How the fuck you sell 4 million records and go broke
How the fuck you take a trip to Jamaica and don't smoke
Out in L.A., I know a couple Damu's and Loc's
My chain heavy, 'bout the weight of soap on a rope
Leave ya girl around me to long, I'm pokin' her throat
Soon as she open her coat, bend her over and STROKE
[Chorus x2]

[Verse 2]
In the town I'm from, the tattle-tells don't rock like Pro-Keds
The lil n***as ride they mopeds round the dope heads
Glass on the ballcourt, you can't even cross-over
Without poppin' the ball, I'm not gonna fall
One year from now I'm in the pop corn Azzure
Bulletproof glass blockin' ya boy, Glock in the door (jea!)
I'm on tour, pocket of raw, knockin' ya whore (jea!)
You back home suckin' ya teeth, moppin the floor (laughs)
I'm gettin' top dollar, these ain't freebies
Been in the game a year and got 2 "Best Of Banks" Cd's
If they ain't mine then I don't give a fuck about 'em
Shit, R. Kelly played with kids and n***as still bought his album
I learned patience 'cause it takes time
Now my delivery is sicker than McGrady on the baseline
None of the Tec's jus wait around
'cause I got a roster, that'll bring a record label down
Im a monster, I tear da whole track up
My closet bar'll break on me if I throw another throwback up
I'm flyin' back to Miami, just to do a feature
'cause they throwin' paper at me like a substitute teacher
I'm far away from the leechers, they can't even reach us
I'm on the left coast gettin' my dick sucked on the beaches
Somebody hurlin up, every time that I stunt
And every other verse you hear is the rhyme of the month, YEA
[Chorus x2]