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“High All The Time”
[Chorus]
I don’t need Dom Perignon, I don’t need Cris
Tanqueray and Alize, I don’t need shit
Nigga I’m high all the time, I smoke that good shit
I stay high all the time, man I’m on some hood shit

Give me some dro, purple haze, and some chocolate
Give me a dutch and a lighter I’ll spark shit
And stay high all the time, I smoke that good shit
I’m high all the time, man I’m on some hood shit

[Verse 1]
Everytime I ROLL up, niggas holla ROLL up, and I tell’em HOLD up,
You ain’t gettin money you ain’t smoking
In my Benzo, 20 inch Lorenzos, smoking on indo
Hiiigh as a motherfucker
I be on them backstreets, niggas know I clap heat, only if you got beef
Man you better holla at me
Niggas get locked up, stabbed up, shot up
Everytime I pop up, a lot going on in my hood

I shoot the dice, I holler get’em girls
Daddy need new shoes
Daddy need Perelli’s to look mean on 22s
Stash box, Xbox, laptop, fax machine, phone
Bulletproof this bitch and I’m gone
2003 Suburban swerving, too many sips of Henny
The D’s sick, they searched the whip and they can’t find the semis
They was just harassing me cause they know who I was
Spent the night in Central Booking for smoking some bud

[Chorus]
[Verse 2]
Now if you heard I done started some shit
It ain’t because I be high (I be high, I be high)
And if you heard I done let off a clip
It ain’t because I be high (I be high, I be high)
But I- twist that la, la, la, la

I get high as I wanna nigga
Go against me, fa sho, you’s a goner nigga
I don’t smoke to calm my nerves but I got beef
Finna crush my enemies like I crush the hashish
If you love me, tell me you love me, don’t stare at me man
I’d hate to be in the Benz clapping one of my fans
Let me show you how to greet me, when you meet me, when you see me
If you real my nigga, you know how to holla “G-Unit!”
There’s no competition, it’s just me,
50 Cent, motherfucker, I’m hot on these streets
If David could go against Goliath with a stone
I can go at Nas and Jigga, both for the throne

[Chorus]
[Verse 3]
Now who you know besides me who write lines and squeeze nines
And have hoes in the hood sniffin on white lines
You don’t want me to be your kid’s role model
I’ll teach them how to buck them 380s and load up them hollows
Have shorty fresh off the stoop, ready to shoot
Big blunt in his mouth, deuce deuce in his boot
Sit in the crib, sippin Guinness, watching Menace
Then Oh Lord, have a young nigga bucking shit like he O-Dog
My team they depend on me when it’s crunch time
I eat a nigga food in broad day like it’s lunchtime
You feeling brave nigga, go ahead get gully
See if I won’t leave your brains leaking up out your skully
I done made myself hot, so ain’t shit you can tell me
Niggas calling me to feature, man fuck your money
I ain’t hurting, I’m doing good
I ain’t got to write rhymes, I got bricks in the hood

[Chorus]
G-Unit, are you ready
G-Unit, are you ready
G-Unit, are you ready
Nigga, ready or not, here I come, come, come

For everyone who had a chance and blew it
For everyone who knew what he had to do
And couldn’t do it
When every little bit of hope
Turns into a cloud of smoke
You’d swear that you can’t take no more
But you’ve been wrong before
CHORUS
I’ve got nothing but time
But time is all I’ve got
And all my time is free
I’ve got nothing but time
But time is all I’ve got
Till time runs out on me

CHORUS
When everyone who you call your friend
Will stick with you right from the start
But not until the end
Nothing hurts like broken trust
No one said this world is just
When every vow you’ve heard is broken
There’s still one that’s left unspoken
CHORUS
If you look at all I’m sure you’ll find
There’s no such thing as peace of mind
I used to try to be prepared
Now I’m not scared of being scared
CHORUS

Yeah
Shady (echo)
Aftermath (echo)
G-Unit (Echo)

CHORUS
I got places to go, I got people to see,
The penitentiary, ain’t the place for me,
I’m warning you, do not tempt me,
I’ll run up and squeeze
And put a hole in you, hole in you

(Repeat)
Verse 1
You mistaken me for somebody that you should be testing,
You should be stressing I’m gonna fucking teach you a lesson,
MAC 101’s in session and lace the track that I’m blessing,
Smith and wesson’s, the weapon, in case you just guessing, (God Damn (Echo))
These straight busters kept-in, kept-in my benz, hop-in the end’s,
Watch the 22 spin , my hoe’s they perfect 10
I got shot up but I got up and i’m back at it again,
Motherfuckers they thought I would’nt win, pretend to be friends,
At first you fail, try, try, try, try again,
I’m the best don’t you get it, forget it, when I spit it, its crazy,
You love it, admit it, you like it, I live it, its shady,
Aftermath in your ass bitch, if its not a classic,
When it’s dumpy, trash it, so I got it mastered,
Stop and get your ass kicked, bastered, your misses get drastic,
Glock made out of plastic, cock-it and get blasted, run nigga and stash it…

CHORUS
Verse 2
There is a genie in that bottle of that Dom Perignon,
I’m a drink till I get to that bitch Em and Dre,
Introduce me to the booth they gonna listen to my words,
In the hood they feel my shit…
(break-it down…)

Picture a perfect picture, picture me in the paper
Picture me starting shit, picture me busting my gat,
Picture police man dey ain’t gotta picture of that,
Picture me being broke, picture me smokin a sack,
Picture me comin up, picture me rich from rap,
Picture me blowin up, now picture me going back,
To my momma basement to live, shit, picture that,
Where I’m from its a fact, you gotta watch your back,
You wear a vest without a gat, you’s a target jack,
Hastle hard, money stack, sell that dope, sell that crack,
Sell that pack, sell that gat, sell that pussy, crew are back,
50 Cent, too much spent?, man I’m bent, I’m outta here

CHORUS
(50 Cent Saying)
Ha ha
Man I aint going to jail
Not even to visit a nigga
You want to holla at me you write me,
Matter a fact, you gotta send it to Sunset Boulevard,
In Montreal,
Ha ha
Riding around in one of Dre’s Ferrari’s nigga,
Or matter a fact I might be in Detroit,
Riding down 8 Mile road,
You know for one of them en-joints and shit,
Ha ha
Ya heard, I got place to go man,
You know, shady aftermath,
We finished our print money,
Puttin our faces on this motherfuckin bill thug shit,
Ha ha ha ha ha,
Ain’t seem to be doing much…