G-Unit - Eye for Eye [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Produced by Hi-Tek]

[Intro: 50 Cent]
Yeah, I like the way this feel
This make me wanna just, G-G-G-G, G-Unit!
Buck somethin, hahaha G-Unit!

[Hook: 50 Cent]
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

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

[Verse 1: Lloyd Banks]]
Uhh, I'm on that "Doggystyle" shit, man I don't love a ho
Poppa wasn't 'round, so I had to let my brother know
Never stay at centre, 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 there's more than one gun
Fly straight soldier, ain'tcha tired of bein' the dumb one
Or are you satisfied bein' another nigga's dunn-dunn
We all know friendships turnin' 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

[Hook]

[Verse Two: Young Buck]
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 ho-tel
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 da block
I can feel your pain nigga, I'm still in the game nigga
There'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
Shoot-outs in broad day, we do it the mob way
And come to find out, these niggas softer than Sade'
I'mma keep livin' my life with a pistol in my palm
And a wrist full of ice, you can call me a Don motherfucker

[Interlude: singing]
We got the Hei-ny
So make one wrong move and you're dying
Ain't no time for coppin a plea and crying
Cause my niggas ain't gon' stop ridin'
So you gone

[Hook]

[Verse Three: 50 Cent]
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
Front and I'll put your brains on that curb fast nigga
I ain't a marksman, one spark and I spray shit
Nuff rounds from that H-K, I don't play bitch
Move like I'm militant, back on that gorilla shit
Moody, disrespectful, unruly, but niggas can't move me
I squeeze till I run out of ammo, if it's a problem it's handled
I have your people pourin' our 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
Do your body all banged up, you made a mistake man

[Hook]