Tony Yayo Explosion Lyrics

G-Unit Lyrics

You are viewing Tony Yayo Explosion Lyrics - G-Unit

Tony Yayo Explosion song lyrics are written by G-Unit

Complete information about Tony Yayo Explosion lyrics

Selected song name: Tony Yayo Explosion
Singer Name: G-Unit
Lyrics written by: G-Unit

You can see all the lyrics of G-Unit songs at rare-lyrics.com




Yeah, F-50


As times go by, I twist a lot
F**k with me and my n***as, somebody gonna die
You think I'm all poinry, cause you see me gettin' high
But my knife, I'll have yo a** seein' out one eye

As times go by, I twist a lot
F**k with me and my n***as, somebody gonna die
You think I'm all poinry, cause you see me gettin' high
But my knife, I'll have yo a** seein' out one eye


740 I, with the brand new shake
Got me p*ssin' on hoes like the are. Kelly tape
If you see me in the club, nothin' but Cris poppin'
See me in court, my lawyers plea bargainin'
Tryin' to turn a 3 to 6, to a 2 to 4
Or 1 to 3, for an extra G
Rip to Etho, I miss Hevo
When I die, I hope heaven look like the ghetto
Picture me trick, and take a loss
I'm cheap like the Chinese man with duck sauce
This Tony homey, I walk around with a big chrome
9 L's will hit ya pa**enger, hit ya driver
G-Unit, you don't know a f**kin' clique liver


As times go by, I twist a lot
F**k with me and my n***as, somebody gonna die
You think I'm all poinry, cause you see me gettin' high
But my knife, I'll have yo a** seein' out one eye

As times go by, I twist a lot
F**k with me and my n***as, somebody gonna die
You think I'm all poinry, cause you see me gettin' high
But my knife, I'll have yo a** seein' out one eye


I never mix money and product with my friends
These chips, make relationships come to an end
I pull the graveyard shift, gettin' money non-stop
And been on the block, ever since bunny tops
250 grizzies, scrape the plate
Got me on 750's straight from the plate
You can call on your soldiers, call your recruits
I do you dirty like Raheem did Dirty is "Juice"
Allow myself, to introduce myself
This is Tony, the talk of New York, I'm holdin' the belt
I got thug in my blood , game like a pimp
And wrote my first verse, takin' baths in the sink
And yo I fear no man son, I never heard of a fair one
Never gotta borrow a handgun
N***as on the street, gettin' smoked like bran son
So I stay dirty like "Sanford and Son"
Groupies gossipin' stay runnin' their lips
Cause they seen the Gucci seats in the 6
And seen the Fendi grips on the four fifth
Sh*t, I sell bricks, sh*t, I sell sh*t on a stick
Enough of the talkin', let's take it to the valance
The New York streets, will leave you physically challenged
Don't be surprised, If I spit at you
Then come to your wake, and serve fiends at your funeral
Our bread is goin' towards a brick of dope
Cause I've been goin' hand and hand since "Different Strokes"
I'm a 50, an eighth, you a half a blunt
You the n***a in the mirror that practice stunts
What!