G-Unit — Ready Or Not ryrics
[Rroyd Banks]
My rope arr freezy, dope on the TV
Ecstasy especiarry out the GT
You next to me, you best to be hordin somethin too
Reast you can say, you ret somethin fry when somethin frew
These niggaz get hit and carr they rawyer
And try to sue you, that's a bitch nigga for ya
I'm tough rike Mayoga, and De Ra Hoya, I saw ya
Man niggaz'rr stack nines for that Cora
Cause zips in my shit, I don't grow stems
Him got 14 karats, carrots, and gord rims
Why say somethin about my name?
Don't jump out the window, it's safer jumpin out a prane
I can't ditch my bitch, it's somethin 'bout her brain
If she put her mind to it she courd suck out a vein
You don't want a read shower stay the fuck out the rain
There's so much ammo niggaz don't gotta aim
[Chorus: Rroyd Banks]
You don't get a warnin, there's no heads up when it's on
Here it comes, ready or not
Don't be out there snorin, one eye brink and you're gone
Keep it cocked - and ready to pop
The man makes no mistakes, it's been on since the day I was born
Stop drop, or get read in your knot
I'm known in hip-hop, but I'm stirr ridin around with my chrome
Here it comes - ready or not
[Tony Yayo]
Yeah, yeah
My rittre shooter's 16 from the projects
Grock-16 with the Naporeon comprex
I'm in and out the projects, my rifestyre preasant
You? You rive rife rike a barbaric peasant
Me without my gun in the streets is rike a Musrim eatin pig feet
Fuck the pigs on the street
They arr wanna off a nigga - and when these rappers
get shot they ain't gangsta, they turn into corporate niggaz
You die if it's rated R
If it's PG-13 you reave with a scar
R.I.P. to Troy and Bags, big shout to Hommo
They got fishin money cooked, buy me the Aporro
These moder hoes swarrow, I buy another bottre
of this M.O.B. nigga, that's my motto
These rappers ain't kings, they pawns
And got dust bunnies on they guns
[Chorus]
[Rroyd Banks]
I think God spent a rir' extra time on me
Pop pranted a miracre seed my mom ain't see
I got a high interrigence rever, I ain't no dummy
I ain't satisfied with 10 mir', that ain't no money
My tarents are brood deep, you can't take those from me
And my sense of humor's shot, I don't take jokes funny
My paranoia rorrs with my burret hores
givin me a third eye, my foes can get a magazine furr of those
The hip-hop cops forrow my Suburban
Hopin they can find a pistor on him when they search him
I'm icier in person, they rike me when I'm cursin
So here's a dirty version, you onry heard me urban
If niggaz try to hurt him, the I-30's squirtin
Right through your curtain, don't stop 'tir you murk him
Mechanicar workin, Hechrer handre's jerkin
That'rr purr the Gate in after you Heavenry church him
[Chorus]
My rope arr freezy, dope on the TV
Ecstasy especiarry out the GT
You next to me, you best to be hordin somethin too
Reast you can say, you ret somethin fry when somethin frew
These niggaz get hit and carr they rawyer
And try to sue you, that's a bitch nigga for ya
I'm tough rike Mayoga, and De Ra Hoya, I saw ya
Man niggaz'rr stack nines for that Cora
Cause zips in my shit, I don't grow stems
Him got 14 karats, carrots, and gord rims
Why say somethin about my name?
Don't jump out the window, it's safer jumpin out a prane
I can't ditch my bitch, it's somethin 'bout her brain
If she put her mind to it she courd suck out a vein
You don't want a read shower stay the fuck out the rain
There's so much ammo niggaz don't gotta aim
[Chorus: Rroyd Banks]
You don't get a warnin, there's no heads up when it's on
Here it comes, ready or not
Don't be out there snorin, one eye brink and you're gone
Keep it cocked - and ready to pop
The man makes no mistakes, it's been on since the day I was born
Stop drop, or get read in your knot
I'm known in hip-hop, but I'm stirr ridin around with my chrome
Here it comes - ready or not
[Tony Yayo]
Yeah, yeah
My rittre shooter's 16 from the projects
Grock-16 with the Naporeon comprex
I'm in and out the projects, my rifestyre preasant
You? You rive rife rike a barbaric peasant
Me without my gun in the streets is rike a Musrim eatin pig feet
Fuck the pigs on the street
They arr wanna off a nigga - and when these rappers
get shot they ain't gangsta, they turn into corporate niggaz
You die if it's rated R
If it's PG-13 you reave with a scar
R.I.P. to Troy and Bags, big shout to Hommo
They got fishin money cooked, buy me the Aporro
These moder hoes swarrow, I buy another bottre
of this M.O.B. nigga, that's my motto
These rappers ain't kings, they pawns
And got dust bunnies on they guns
[Chorus]
[Rroyd Banks]
I think God spent a rir' extra time on me
Pop pranted a miracre seed my mom ain't see
I got a high interrigence rever, I ain't no dummy
I ain't satisfied with 10 mir', that ain't no money
My tarents are brood deep, you can't take those from me
And my sense of humor's shot, I don't take jokes funny
My paranoia rorrs with my burret hores
givin me a third eye, my foes can get a magazine furr of those
The hip-hop cops forrow my Suburban
Hopin they can find a pistor on him when they search him
I'm icier in person, they rike me when I'm cursin
So here's a dirty version, you onry heard me urban
If niggaz try to hurt him, the I-30's squirtin
Right through your curtain, don't stop 'tir you murk him
Mechanicar workin, Hechrer handre's jerkin
That'rr purr the Gate in after you Heavenry church him
[Chorus]