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06.02.2003 |
1. | Get Rich Or Die Tryin' Intro |
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Get Rich Or Die Tryin' Intro |
. . .
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G-Unit (What)
We in here (What)
We can get the drama popping
We don't care (What, what, what)
It's going down (What)
'Cause I'm around (What)
50 Cent, you know how I gets down (Down)
[Chorus: repeat 2X]
What up, Blood? (What)
What up, Cuz? (What)
What up, Blood? (What)
What up, Gangstaaa?
[Verse 1]
They say I walk around like got an "S" on my chest
Naw, that's a semi-auto, and a vest on my chest
I try not to say nothing, the DA might want to play in court
But I'll hunt or duck a nigga down like it's sport
Front on me, I'll cut ya, gun-butt ya or bump ya
You getting money? I can't none with ya then fuck ya
I'm not the type to get knocked for D.W.I.
I'm the type that'll kill your connect when the coke price rise
Gangstas, they bump my shit then they know me
I grew up around some niggas that's not my homies
Hundred G's I stash it (what), the mack I blast it (yeah)
D's come we dump the diesel and battery acid
This flow's been mastered, the ice I flash it
Chokes me, I'll have your mama picking out your casket, bastard
I'm on the next level, right lane forget bezzle
Benz pedal to the metal, hotter than a tea kettle, god (what)
[Chorus (1st time w/o first "What up, Blood?") (2x)]
[Bridge]
We don't play that
We don't play that
We don't play that (G-Unit)
We don't play around
[Verse 2]
I sit back, twist the best bud, burn and wonder
When gangstas bump my shit, can they hear my hunger?
When the 5th kick, duck quick, it sounds like thunder
In December I'll make your block feel like summer
The rap critics say I can rhyme, the fiends say my dope is a nine
Every chick I fuck with is a dime
I'm like Patty LaBelle, homie, I'm on my own
Where I lay my hat is my home, I'm a rolling stone
Cross my path I'll crush ya, thinking I won't touch ya
I'll have your ass using a wheelchair, cane, or crutches
Industry hoe fuckers, in the hood they love us
Stomp a bone out your ass with some brand new chuckas
[Chorus (2x)]
[Bridge (4x)]
. . .
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(feat. Eminem)
[50 Cent talking]
Ay Em you know my favorite white boy right...I.. I owe you for this one
[Chorus]
I've been patiently waiting
For a track to explode on (yea)
You get stunned if you want
And yo ass'll get rolled on (It's 50)
A fuse like my flows
Been hot for so long (yea)
If you thinkin I'ma fuckin
Fall of your so wrong
[50 Cent]
I've finished it in my head
Like a baby born dead
Destination heaven
Sittin politic with passin just from 9-11 (yea)
The Lords blessing left me lyrically incline (uh huh)
Shit I aint even got to try to shine
God's a seamstress who tailorfitted my pain
I got scribtures in my brain
I can spit at your thang
Straight out the good book
Look niggaz is shook
50 fear no man warrior
Swing swords like Conan
Picture me pen in hand
Write lines knowin' THE SOURCE will quote it
When I die they'll read this
And say a genius wrote it
I grew up witout my Pop
Shit that make me bitter
I caught cases and got out
Does that make me a quitter
In this white mans world
I'm simmilar to a squirral
Lookin for a slut
Wit a nice but to get a nut
If I get shot today my phone
Will stop ringing again
These industry niggaz ain't friends
They know how to pretend
[Chorus (2x)]
I've been patiently waiting
For a track to explode on (yea)
You get stunned if you want
And yo ass'll get rolled on (It's 50)
A fuse like my flows
Been hot for so long (yea)
If you thinkin Im'a fuckin
Fall of your so wrong
(It's 50!!)
[Eminem]
Youve been patiently waiting
To make it through all the hate
And debatin weither or not
You can even weather the storm
When she lay on the table
They operating to save you
It's like a Angel came to you
Sent from the heavens above
They think they crazy
But they ain't crazy lets face it
Shit basically they just playin sick
They ain't shit they ain't sayin shit
Spray umh 50 (gun shots)
A to K get in the way
I bring Dre and them wit me
And turn this day into fuckin mayhem
You stayin wit me
Don't let me lose you
I'm not tryin to confuse you
When I let lose wit this oozee
And just shoot through you Izuzu
You get the message
Am I gettin through to you
You know it's comin
You motherfuckers dont even kno do you
Take some BIG and some PAC
And you mix them up in a pot
Sprinkle a little Big L on top
What the fuck do you got?
You got the realest and illest killers
Tied up in a knot
The Juggernaughts of this rap shit
Like it or not it's like a fight to the top
To see who die for the spot
You put your life in this
Nothin like survivng a shot
Y'all know what time it is
Soon as 50 signs on this dot
Shit what you know about death threats
Cause I get alot
Shady Records was 80 seconds
Away from the towers
Some cowards fucked with the wrong building
They meant to hit ours
Better evacuate all children
Nuclear showers theres nothin spookier
Your now about to witness the power of fuckin' 50!
[Chorus]
I've been patiently waiting
For a track to explode on (yea)
You get stunned if you want
And yo ass'll get rolled on (It's 50)
A fuse like my flows
Been hot for so long (yea)
If you thinkin I'ma fuckin
Fall of your so wrong
(It's 50!!)
It's the Gun Squad here
And you hear the shots go off
(It's 50, They say It's 50)
You see a nigga laid out
Wit his fuckin top blown off
(It's 50, Man that was'nt 50)
They don't holla my name
[50 Cent]
You should'nt throw stones
If you live in a glass house
And if you got a glass jaw
You should watch your mouth
Cause I'll break your face
Have you ass runnin
Mumbling to the check
Your going against me dogg
You makin a mistake
I split yo lip
You lookin like them
Michael Jack-Son Jackets
Wit all them zippers
I'm the boss on this boat
You can call me Skipper
The way I turn the money over
You should call me Flipper
Your Bitch a regular Bitch
Your callin her Wifey
I fucked her feed her fast food
You keepin' her Icee
I'm down to sell records
But not my soul
Snoop said this in '94
"We don't love them ho's"
I got pennies for my dogs
Now I'm rich
See the 20's spinnin'
Lookin mean on the 6
Nigga's wearin flags
Cause the colors match they clothes
The get caught in the wrong hood
And filled up with holes
Motherfucka'
[Chorus (2x)]
I've been patiently waiting
For a track to explode on (yea)
You get stunned if you want
And yo ass'll get rolled on (It's 50)
A fuse like my flows
Been hot for so long (yea)
If you thinkin Im'a fuckin
Fall of your so wrong
(It's 50!!)
[Thanks to styx0r@hotmail.com for these lyrics]
[Thanks to p_shady1@hotmail.com for correcting these lyrics]
. . .
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(feat. Lloyd Banks)
[Lloyd Banks]
Man we gotta go get something to eat man
I'm hungry as a motherfucker
[50 Cent]
Ay yo man, damn what's taking homie so long son?
[Lloyd Banks]
50, calm down, here he come
[9 Shots]
[Banks and 50]
Ahh, ohh, what the fuck!?
[50 Cent]
Ahh! son, pull up! pull up!
[50 Cent]
Many men, wish death upon me
Blood in my eye dawg and I can't see
I'm trying to be what I'm destined to be
And niggas trying to take my life away
I put a hole in a nigga for fucking with me
My back on the wall, now you gon' see
Better watch how you talk, when you talk about me
'Cause I'll come and take your life away
Many men, many, many, many, many men
Wish death upon me
Lord I don't cry no more
Don't look to the sky no more
Have mercy on me
Now these pussy niggas putting money on my head
Go on and get your refund motherfucker, I ain't dead
I'm the diamond in the dirt, that ain't been found
I'm the underground king and I ain't been crowned
When I rhyme, something special happen every time
I'm the greatest, something like Ali in his prime
I walk the block with the bundles
I've been knocked on the humble
Swing the ox when I rumble
Show your ass what my gun do
Got a temper nigga, go'head, lose your head
Turn your back on me, get clapped and lose your legs
I walk around gun on my waist, chip on my shoulder
Till I bust a clip in your face, pussy, this beef ain't over
Many men, many, many, many, many men
Wish death upon me
Lord I don't cry no more
Don't look to the sky no more
Have mercy on me
Have mercy on my soul
Somewhere my heart turned cold
Have mercy on many men
Many, many, many, many men
Wish death upon me
Some days wouldn't be special, if it wasn't for rain
Joy wouldn't feel so good, if it wasn't for pain
Death gotta be easy, 'cause life is hard
It'll leave you physically, mentally, and emotionally scarred
This if for my niggas on the block, twisting trees and cigars
For the niggas on lock, doing life behind bars
I don't see only god can judge me, 'cause I see things clear
Quick these crackers will give my black ass a hundred years
I'm like Paulie in Goodfellas, you can call me the Don
Like Malcolm by any means, with my gun in my palm
Slim switched sides on me, let niggas ride on me
I thought we was cool, why you want me to die homie?
Many men, many, many, many, many men
Wish death upon me
Lord I don't cry no more
Don't look to the sky no more
Have mercy on me
Have mercy on my soul
Somewhere my heart turned cold
Have mercy on many men
Many, many, many, many men
Wish death upon me
Every night I talk to god, but he don't say nothing back
I know he protecting me, but I still stay with my gat
In my nightmares, niggas keep pulling techs on me
Psych says some bitch dumb, put a hex on me
The feds didn't know much, when Pac got shot
I got a kite from the pens that told me, Tuck got knocked
I ain't gonna spell it out for you motherfuckers all the time
Are you illiterate nigga? You can't read between the lines
In the bible it says, what goes around, comes around
Almost shot me, three weeks later he got shot down
Now it's clear that I'm here, for a real reason
'Cause he got hit like I got hit, but he ain't fukcing breathing
Many men, many, many, many, many men
Wish death upon me
Lord I don't cry no more
Don't look to the sky no more
Have mercy on me
Have mercy on my soul
Somewhere my heart turned cold
Have mercy on many men
Many, many, many, many men
Wish death upon me
[Thanks to styx0r@hotmail.com for these lyrics]
. . .
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[50 Cent]
Go, go, go, go
Go, go, go shawty
It's your birthday
We gon' party like it's yo birthday
We gon' sip Bacardi like it's your birthday
And you know we don't give a fuck
It's not your birthday!
[Chorus (2x)]
You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub
Look mami I got the X if you into taking drugs
I'm into having sex, I ain't into making love
So come give me a hug if you into getting rubbed
[Verse]
When I pull out up front, you see the Benz on dubs
When I roll 20 deep, it's 20 knives in the club
Niggas heard I fuck with Dre, now they wanna show me love
When you sell like Eminem, and the hoes they wanna fuck
But homie ain't nothing change hold down, G's up
I see Xzibit in the Cutt that nigga roll that weed up
If you watch how I move you'll mistake me for a playa or pimp
Been hit wit a few shells but I dont walk wit a limp
In the hood then the ladies saying "50 you hot"
They like me, I want them to love me like they love 'Pac
But holla in New York them niggas'll tell ya im loco
And the plan is to put the rap game in a choke hold
I'm feelin' focused man, my money on my mind
I got a mill out the deal and I'm still on the grind
Now shawty said she feeling my style, she feeling my flow
Her girlfriend wanna get bi and they ready to go
[Chorus (2x)]
[Bridge]
My flow, my show brought me the doe
That bought me all my fancy things
My crib, my cars, my pools, my jewels
Look nigga i done came up and i ain't change.
[Verse]
And you should love it, way more then you hate it
Nigga you mad? I thought that you'd be happy I made it
I'm that cat by the bar toasting to the good life
You that faggot ass nigga trying to pull me back right?
When my junk get to pumpin in the club it's on
I wink my eye at ya bitch, if she smiles she gone
If the roof on fire, let the motherfucker burn
If you talking bout money homie, I ain't concerned
I'm a tell you what Banks told me cause go 'head switch the style up
If the niggas hate then let 'em hate
Watch the money pile up
Or we go upside there wit a bottle of bub
You know where we fucking be
[Chorus (2x)]
[Talking]
[Laughing] Don't try to act like you ain't know where we been either nigga
In the club all the time nigga, its about to pop off nigga
G-Unit
[Thanks to koolacie@hotmail.com, lollipopbabbie@aol.com for correcting these lyrics]
. . .
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[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
. . .
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[Skit]
"Aye you want some of this shit"
"Naw, I don't want that shit"
"I don't give a fuck, I don't play dat shit"
"And I'm fin'nin to buss a cap in a nigga"
"Man SHUT the fuck up"
"Whoa slow down, slow down, slow down"
"You see that brick house right there"
"That's the nigga crib when he come out you gotta tighten his ass up"
"I'ma get in the other car"
"Aight" [a car revs up]
[gunshots]
[Chorus: 50 Cent]
If there's beef, cock it and dump it, the drama really means nothin
To me I'll ride by and blow ya brains out (brains out)
There's no time to cock it, no way you can stop it
When niggas run up on you wit them thangs out (thangs out)
I do what I gotta do I don't care I if get caught
The DA can play this motherfuckin tape in court
I'll kill you - I ain't playin, hear what I'm sayin, homie I ain't playin
Catch you slippin, I'ma kill you - I ain't playin, hear what I'm sayin,
homie I ain't playin
[50 Cent]
Keep thinkin I'm candy till ya fuckin skull get popped
And ya brain jump out the top like Jack-in-da-box
In the hood summer time is the killing season
It's hot out this bitch that's a good 'nuff reason
I've seen gangsta's get religious when they start bleedin
Sayin "Lord, Jesus Help Me" cause they ass leakin
When they window roll down and that A.K. come out
You can squeeze ya lil handgun until you run out
And you can run for ya back-up
But them machine gun shells gone tear ya back up
God's on ya side, shit I'm aight wit that
We reload them clips and come right back
It's a fact homie, you go against me ya fucked
I get the drop, if you can duck, ya luckier then Lady Luck
Look nigga, don't think you safe cause you moved out the hood
Cuz ya momma still around dog, and daddy ain't good
If you was smart you'd be shook of me
Cuz I'd get tired of lookin for ya, spray ya momma crib, and let ya ass look
for me
[Chorus]
[50 Cent]
My heart bleeds for you nigga, I can't wait to get to you
Behind that twinkle in ya eyes, I can see the bitch in you
Nigga you know the streets talk
So they'll be no white flags and no peace talks
I got my back against the wind, I'm down to ride till the sun burn out
If I die today, I'm happy how my life turned out
See the shootouts that I've been in I'm by myself
Locked up I was in a box by myself
I done made myself a millionaire by myself
Now, shit changed motherfucker I can hire some help
I done heard about the 50 grand you put in the hood
But ya shooter fin'nin to get get shot it won't do 'em no good
With a pistol I define the definition of pain
If you survive ya bones'll still fuckin hurt when it rain
Oh you a pro at playin battleship well this ain't the same
Lil homie this is a whole different type of war game
See the losers and up in shackles of motherfuckin chains
Or laid out in the streets leakin out they brains
[Chorus]
[50 Cent]
After the fist fights it's gunfire boy you get the best of me (best of me)
If you don't wanna get shot I suggest you don't go testin me (testin me)
All the wrong I've done the Lord still keep on blessin me (blessin me)
Fin'nin to run rap cuz Dr. Dre got the recipe (the recipe, recipe)
Yeah, uh ha, aye Dre
You got me feelin real bulletproof up in this motherfucker
Cuz my windows on my motherfuckin Benz is bulletproof nigga
Cuz my motherfuckin vest is bulletproof nigga
Cuz my motherfuckin hat is bulletproof nigga
But the Doc said if I get hit I might get a fuckin concussion
Better that then a hole in the head right nigga, heh heh ha ha
. . .
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Yea, ha ha, yea, yea
[Hook: 50 Cent]
If I can't do well, homey, it can't be done
Now I'ma let the champagne bottle pop
I'ma take it to the top
Fo sho I'ma make it hot, baby (baby)
[Verse 1: 50 Cent]
I apply pressure to pussies that stuntin I pop
Stand alone squeezin my pistol I'm sure that I gotta
Now Peter Piper picked peppers and dont rock rhymes
I'm 50 Cent, I write a lil bit but I pop nines
Tell niggaz, "Get they money right," cuz I got mine
And I'm around quit playin nigga you can't shine
You gon be that next chump to end up in the trunk
After bein hit by the pump, is that whut you want?
Be easy nigga, I'll lay your ass out
Believe me nigga, thats whut I'm about, gangsta
You could find a nigga sittin on chrome
Hit the clutch, hit the gear, hit the gas & I'm gone (Yea!)
[Hook: 50 Cent]
If I can't do well, homey, it can't be done
Now I'ma let the champagne bottle pop
I'ma take it to the top
Fo sho I'ma make it hot, baby (baby)
[Verse 2: 50 Cent (Dr Dre)]
I'm down for the action, he smart with his mouth so smack em
You holdin a strap, he might come back so clap em
React like a gangsta, die like a gangsta for actin
Cuz you'll get hit & homicide'll be askin, "Whut happened?"
OH NO look who clapped em with the FO'FO'
20 inch rims sittin CHRO-CHROME
Eastside, Westside niggaz OH NO, NO GO
Even my mama said, "Something really wrong with my brain"
Niggaz don't rob me they know I'm down to die for my chain
G-UNIT! We get it poppin in the hood
G-UNIT! Muthafucka whuts good?
I'm waitin on niggaz to act like they dont know how to act
I had a sip of too much Jack, I'll blow em off the map
With the mack, thinkin its all rap
Til that ass get clapped and Doc say "It's a wrap"
(It's a wrap, nigga)
[Hook: 50 Cent]
If I can't do well, homey, it can't be done
Now I'ma let the champagne bottle pop
I'ma take it to the top
Fo sho I'ma make it hot, baby (baby)
[Verse 3: 50 Cent]
I been feelin i had to teach lessons to slow learners
Go head act up, get smacked in the head with the burner
I dont fight fair, I'm dirty-dirty
I'm from Southside Jamaica, Queens, nigga ya'heard me?
When streetlights come on niggaz blast the nines
Get locked up, they read books to pass the time
In the game there's up's and down's, so I stay on the grind
Niggaz on my dick more than my bitch, I stay on they mind
They aint nothin they could do to stop my shine
This is God's plan homey, this ain't mine
I played the music loud so Grandpa called me a nuisance
And Grandma; who always gotta throw a 100 percent
I'm the drop out who made more more money than these teachers
Roofless/Ruthless like the Coupe but I come with more features
I am whut I am, you could like it or love it
It feels good to pull 50 grand & think nothin of it
Fuck it
[Hook: 50 Cent]
If I can't do well, homey, it can't be done
Now I'ma let the champagne bottle pop
I'ma take it to the top
Fo sho I'ma make it hot, baby (baby)
If I can't do well, homey, it can't be done
Now I'ma let the champagne bottle pop
I'ma take it to the top
Fo sho I'ma make it hot, baby (baby)
Uh huh, hood make it hot
Dr Dre, Aftermath
Shady, ha ha
. . .
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(feat. Young Buck (G-Unit))
[50 Cent]
G-Unit, UTP
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
G-Unit, UTP, G-Unit, UTP
G-Unit, UTP, 50 Cent, get 'em bucked
[50 Cent]
50 Cent, that's my name
Man I ain't fuckin' playin'
I move on you wit' that Mac mayn (Mac mayn)
Come off, now watch your chain
Fo' I blow out your brains
Shells hit your chest go out your back mayn (back mayn)
See me I put in work, man I been doin' dirt
For so long when niggas get laid out (laid out)
Niggas run through my crib, to holla at the kid
That's when I start bringin' them thangs out (thangs out)
Then we go through the strip, hangin' up out the whip
Dumpin' clips off at they whole clique mayn (clique mayn)
When witnesses around, they know how we get down
So when the cops come they ain't see shit mayn (shit mayn)
My soldiers slangin' 'caine, sunny, snow, in sleet or rain
Come through the hood and you can cop that (cop that)
I'm sittin' on some change, G-Unit gots the game
Come through here stuntin' you get popped at (popped at)
[Chorus 2x]
I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two Glocks
Love to bust shots but you don't hear me though
[Young Buck]
I came in this game knowin' niggas gon' hate me
Just for the simple fact they know that I'm a rida' (rida')
I got a hell of a aim, I keep on tellin' ya mayn
I swear ain't nobody gon' find ya (find ya)
When I get lifted I'm tempted to tear your block up
Your niggas can't run cause I'm behind ya (behind ya)
Me and Chilly in your city wit' a couple nine-milli's
You better stay in line bro' (in line bro')
Cause if I walk it I'll talk it, you know we'll walk up and pop it
I love the sound of gunfire bro' (gunfire bro')
Right now we smackin' 'em wit' platinum
And they hate it cause we made it, that's what we keep that eye for (that eye for)
I represent it cause I'm in it, UTP until I'm finished
Juvenile, they can't stop us (can't stop us)
And I admit it, I live it
I'll knock a baller off his pivot with this motherfuckin' choppa'
[Chorus 2x]
[50 Cent]
My twenty-inches spinnin', you always see me grinin'
And you hear niggas call me grimey (grimey)
They hit me wit' them bricks, and I ain't pay 'em shit
I'm outta town, they can't find me (find me)
When I come back around, man I'ma back 'em down
I run up bustin' that Tec mayn (Tec mayn)
If you ain't got a gun, and you can't fuckin' run
My advice is you hit the deck mayn (deck mayn)
But if you get away and come back another day
My soldiers'll leave you wet mayn (wet mayn)
Cause we know where you be, and we know where you stay
And we'll come trippin' through your set mayn (set mayn)
Man you heard what I said, now get it in your head
I ain't payin' no fuckin' debt mayn (debt mayn)
Cause you'se a middle man, but you don't understand
You'se a fuckin' fake ass connect' mayn (connect' mayn)
[Chorus 2x]
. . .
|
|
Yea, G-G-G-G-G-UNIT! (G-UNIT!)
Ha ha...
[Chorus: 50 Cent]
It's easy to see when you look at me
If you look closely, 50 don't BACK DOWN
Everywhere I go both coasts wit toast
Eastside, Westside, I hold that MACK DOWN
Every little nigga you see around me
Hold a gun big enough to fuckin hold SHAQ DOWN
Next time you in the hood and see an ol G
You ask about me, the young boy don't BACK DOWN
Any living thing that cannot co-exist with the kid
Must decease existin, little nigga, now listen
Yo mami, yo papi, that bitch you chasin
Ya little dirty ass kids, I'll fuckin erase them
Your success is not enough, you wanna be hard
Knowin that, you get knocked, you get fucked in the yard
Youza poptart sweetheart, you soft in the middle
I eatcha for breakfast, the watch was an exchange for your necklace
and your boss is a bitch, if he could he would
Sell his soul for cheap, trade his +Knight+ to be Suge
You can buy cars but you can't buy respect in the hood
Maybe I'm so disrespectfu cuz to me you're a mystery
I know niggaz from ya hood, you have no history
Never sold nothin, never popped nothin, nigga stop frontin
Jay put you on, X made you hot
Now you run around like you some big shot
Ha, ha pussy...
[Chorus]
"This rap shit is all fucked up now! What are we gonna do now?
How we gonna eat man? 50 back around"
That's Ja's lil punk ass thinkin out loud
Southside, Tah died, that's just how I get down
I'm back in the game shawty, to +Rule+ and conquer
You sing for hoes and sound like the cookie monster
I'm the hardest from New York, my flow is bonkers
All the other hard niggaz, they come from Yonkers
It's been years and you had the same niggaz in the background
You never gonna sell unless Cadd Tah's crack child
Them niggaz they just SUCK, they no good
I ain't never heard a nigga say "they like them in the hood"
I'm back better than ever, on top of my game
Even them country boys sayin "50 we feelin you mayn"
Now you stay the fuck outta my zone, outta my throne
I'm New York City's own...BAD GUY (BAD GUY)
[Chorus]
I ain't tellin anyone you pussy
I ain't tellin anyone you gettin extored
It ain't over.... (G-UNIT)
I've been patently waitin to BLOWW
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the "50 Cent Show"
This is my life, my pain, my night, my gun
Now that I'm back, you can't sleep
I'm a nightmare huuhhhh
You hired cops to hold you down cuz you fear for your life
You heard about them guns I done bought, right?
I ain't goin no where, I done told you nigga
I'ma G-Unit motherfuckin solider nigga (They not gon like you)
I know, I know...ha, ha (G-UNIT)
. . .
|
|
[Chorus]
I don't know what you heard about me
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfucking P-I-M-P
[Repeat]
[Verse 1]
Now shorty, she in the club, she dancing for dollars
She got a thing for that Gucci, that Fendi, that Prada
That BCBG, Burberry, Dolce and Gabana
She feed them foolish fantasies, they pay her cause they wanna
I spit a little G man, and my game got her
A hour later, have that ass up in the Ramada
Them trick niggas in her ear saying they think about her
I got the bitch by the bar trying to get a drink up out her
She like my style, she like my smile, she like the way I talk
She from the country, think she like me cause I'm from New York
I ain't that nigga trying to holla cause I want some head
I'm that nigga trying to holla cause I want some bread
I could care less how she perform when she in the bed
Bitch hit that track, catch a date, and come and pay the kid
Look baby this is simple, you can't see
You fucking with me, you fucking with a P-I-M-P
[Chorus]
[Verse 2]
I'm bout my money you see, girl you can holla at me
If you fucking with me, I'm a P-I-M-P
Not what you see on TV, no Cadillac, no greasy
Head full of hair, bitch I'm a P-I-M-P
Come get money with me, if you curious to see
how it feels to be with a P-I-M-P
Roll in the Benz with me, you could watch TV
From the backseat of my V, I'm a P-I-M-P
Girl we could pop some champagne and we could have a ball
We could toast to the good life, girl we could have it all
We could really splurge girl, and tear up the mall
If ever you needed someone, I'm the one you should call
I'll be there to pick you up, if ever you should fall
If you got problems, I can solve'em, they big or they small
That other nigga you be with ain't bout shit
I'm your friend, your father, and confidant, BITCH
[Chorus]
[Verse 3]
I told you fools before, I stay with the tools
I keep a Benz, some rims, and some jewels
I holla at a hoe til I got a bitch confused
She got on Payless, me I got on gator shoes
I'm shopping for chinchillas, in the summer they cheaper
Man this hoe you can have her, when I'm done I ain't gon keep her
Man, bitches come and go, every nigga pimpin know
You saying it's secret, but you ain't gotta keep it on the low
Bitch choose with me, I'll have you stripping in the street
Put my other hoes down, you get your ass beat
Now Nik my bottom bitch, she always come up with my bread
The last nigga she was with put stitches in her head
Get your hoe out of pocket, I'll put a charge on a bitch
Cause I need 4 TVs and AMGs for the six
Hoe make a pimp rich, I ain't paying bitch
Catch a date, suck a dick, shiiit, TRICK
[Chorus]
Yeah, in Hollywoood they say there's no b'ness like show b'ness
In the hood they say, there's no b'ness like hoe b'ness ya know
They say I talk a lil fast, but if you listen a lil faster
I ain't got to slow down for you to catch up, BITCH
. . .
|
|
(feat. Tony Yayo (G-Unit))
[50 Cent]
(Uh huh) I know you like my style
(Uh huh) You like how I break it down
(Uh huh) I know you like style
(Uh huh) You like how I break it down
I know you like my style
(Uh huh) You like how I break it down
Wanna get rich I'll show you how
Wanna get rich I'll show you how
On ya mark, get set, let's go, switch the flow
Teach ya how to turn yayo in to doe
The original don dada nobody bomb harda
Ya heard what I said boy, I'm hot, I'm hot
The hoodrats they say "He so crazy"
The snitches they say "He tried to spray me"
That's what you get for tryin to play me
The Aftermath and my wrath is so SHADY
No matter how you try you can't stop it
I catch ya stuntin in the Bentley Coup cockpit
If you a pimp why ya hoes stay outta pocket
Front and find out how my P-40 glock hit
"50 you need some help" chill yo, yo I got this
Where I'm from the D's tryin to knock us
They swear to God that it's me sellin the choppas
Man I ain't give them lil niggas no product
[Chorus: 50 Cent]
(Uh huh) I know you like my style
(Uh huh) But how much do you like my style
(Uh huh) You like how I break it down
(Uh huh) Wanna get rich I'll show you how
(Uh huh) I know you like my style
(Uh huh) But how much do you like my style
(Uh huh) You like how I break it down
(Uh huh) Wanna get rich I'll show you how
[50 Cent]
The birds they say I got a way with words
I be like "baby girl I like them curves"
If ya not busy tonight then we can swerve
I'ma bachelor baby, fuck what you heard
From the tellie in ten minutes I'll make you a believer
Tongue touch ya'll have ya shakin like you havin a seizure
I make hits about what I do in my leisure
G unit gang, can't another clique out to see us
Niggas lip sync the lyrics cuz they wanna be us
Groupie hoes from the hood they be tryin ta G us
Try ta holla at the kid, e'ery time they see us
Girlfriend quit pretending I'm the nigga ya love
And I ain't got to say nuttin you know that I'm thugin
Wit my hands on dat ass and ya say that I'm buggin
We family baby, kissin cousins
Now look what the riff raff done drug in
For the cheese my degrees is hotter then ya oven
I'ma New Yorker but I sound southern
And we sip DP till the Don stop bubblin
After we play, ok, got to ya husband
[Chorus: 50 Cent]
[50 Cent (Tony Yayo)]
Em said you gone like my style
Dre said you gone like my style
I said you gone like my style (Uh huh)
You gone like how I break it down
[Tony Yayo]
You're not really, really ready (ready)
The drama will have ya ass in trauma BOY!
You're not really, really ready (ready)
My knife flip open and then I gets to pokin
You're not really, really ready (ready)
Them shells start poppin and bodies get to droppin
You're not really, really ready (ready)
You think ya ready, ya not (ya not)
Really really ready (ready)
. . .
|
|
[Verse 1]
I let my watch talk for me, my whip talk for me
My gat talk for me, BOW! What up homie
My watch saying hi shorty we can be friends
My whip saying quit playing bitch get in
My earring saying we can hit the mall together
Shorty its only right that we ball together
I'm into bigger things y'all niggaz y'all know my style
Ya wrist bling bling, my shit bling blow
My pinky ring talk it say fifty I'm sick
That's why these niggaz is on my dick
Some hate me, some love my hits
Flex my man he gon bump my shit
See I'm alive man I really don't care
I tell them hoes whatever they wanna hear
You try and play me I'ma blaze it in
My chromes cost more than the crib ya momma raised ya in
[Chorus: repeat 2x]
I was a poor nigga
Now I'm a rich nigga
Getting paper now you can't tell me shit nigga
You can find me in the fo' dot six nigga
In the backseat fondling ya bitch nigga
[Verse 2]
New York niggaz, cocky niggaz like it's all good
Fuck around we crip-walking in the wrong hood
I'm fresh up out the slammer, I ain't no fucking bama
I'm from the wild whody, but I know country grammar
See me I get it crunk, niggaz go head and front
I go up out the trunk, come back, rollout I'm done (yeah)
My money come in lumps, my pockets got the mumps
You see me sitting on dubs, that's why u mad chump
Don't make me hit ya up, 50 cent will split ya up
I lay you down, them carnids will come and get ya up
See 50 play fa keeps, and 50 stay wit heat
I can't go commercial, they love me in the street
I'm real bloody man, the hood love me man
Don't make me show up in ya crib like bro-man
Locked up in a pen, I still do my thing
C-O screaming shut the fuck up in the pen
[Chorus (2x)]
I'm in the Benz on Monday, the BM on Tuesday
Range on Wednesday, Thursday I'm in the hooptay
Porsche on Friday, I do things my way
Vipe or Vette, I tear up the highway
Shorty she can tell ya about my dick game
But she don't know me, she only know my nickname
Left the hood and came back, damn shit changed
These young boys, they done got they own work man
[Chorus (2x)]
. . .
|
|
(feat. Nate Dogg)
[50 Cent]
New York City!
You are now rapping...with 50 Cent
You gotta love it...
I just wanna chill and twist a lot
Catch suns in my 7-45
You drive me crazy shorty I
Need to see you and feel you next to me
I provide everything you need and I
Like your smile I don't wanna see you cry
Got some questions that I got to ask and I
Hope you can come up with the answers babe
[Nate Dogg]
Girl...It's easy to love me now
Would you love me if I was down and out?
Would you still have love for me?
Girl...It's easy to love me now
Would you love me if I was down and out?
Would you still have love for me?
Girl...
[50 Cent]
If I feel off tomorrow would you still love me?
If I didn't smell so good would you still hug me?
If I got locked up and sentenced to a quarter century,
Could I count on you to be there to support me mentally?
If I went back to a hoopty from a Benz, would you poof and disappear like
some of my friends?
If I was hit and I was hurt would you be by my side?
If it was time to put in work would you be down to ride?
I'd get out and peel a nigga cap and chill and drive
I'm asking questions to find out how you feel inside
If I ain't rap 'cause I flipped burgers at Burger King
would you be ashamed to tell your friends you feelin' me?
And in bed if I used to my tongue, would you like that?
If I wrote you a love letter would you write back?
Now we can have a lil' drink you know a nightcap
And we could go do what you like, I know you like that
[Nate Dogg]
Girl...It's easy to love me now
Would you love me if I was down and out?
Would you still have love for me?
Girl...It's easy to love me now (Woo!)
Would you love me if I was down and out?
Would you still have love for me?
Girl...
[50 Cent]
Now would you leave me if you're father found out I was thuggin'?
Do you believe me when I tell you, you the one I'm loving?
Are you mad 'cause I'm asking you 21 questions?
Are you my soulmate? 'Cause if so, girl you a blessing
Do you trust me enough, to tell me your dreams?
I'm staring at ya' trying to figure how you got in them jeans
If I was down would you say things to make me smile?
I treat you how you want to be treated just teach me how
If I was with some other chick and someone happened to see?
And when you asked me about it I said it wasn't me
Would you believe me? Or up and leave me?
How deep is our bond if that's all it takes for you to be gone?
And always remember girl we make mistakes, to make it up I do whatever it take
I love you like a fat kid love cake
You know my style I say anything to make you smile
[Nate Dogg]
Girl...It's easy to love me now
Would you love me if I was down and out?
Would you still have love for me?
Girl...It's easy to love me now
Would you love me if I was down and out?
Would you still have love for me?
Girl...
Could you love me in a Bentley?
Could you love me on a bus?
I'll ask 21 questions, and they all about us
Could you love me in a Bentley?
Could you love me on a bus?
I'll ask 21 questions, and they all about us
. . .
|
|
(feat. Lloyd Banks, Eminem)
[50 Cent]
I need you to pray for me and
I need you to care for me and
I need you to want me to win
I need to know where I'm heading,'cause I know where I've been
Flows, bones, crushing it's nothing
I come up with something
Come through your strip, fronting, stunting
It's something you want, 745 chrome spinning
Haters hate that I'm winnning
Man I've been hot from the beginning
Motherfuckers aim at the kid, control your jealousy
'Cause I can't control my temper, I'm fitting to catch a felony
Pistol in hand homie, I'm down to get it popping
Once I squeeze the first shot
No I aint stopping till my clip is empty
I'm simply not that nigga you should try your luck with
Fuck with, hollow-tip shells struck with your bones broke
Gun smoking, still locing, what nigga
Lay your ass down paramedics get you up feeling
[50 Cent]
Right now I'm on the edge
So don't push me
I aim straight for your head
So don't push me
Fill your ass up with lead
So don't push me
I got something for your ass, keep thinking I'm pussy
Right now I'm on the edge
So don't push me
I aim straight for your head
So don't push me
Fill your ass up with lead
So don't push me
I got something for your ass, keep thinking I'm pussy
[Lloyd Banks]
I cross my bigger nigga and I didn't cry
To young to understand, the consequences of man
Living a lie, I gotta get that money
I'll be damned if If I'm bummy
Gotta watch my back around these niggas
'Cause they fronting 20 years
Of watching my mama's tears
Got me heated, heavily weeded
Smoking that bomb 'cause I need it
These niggas don't want me balling, they want me bury
Thrown in the dirt, from shots flurry
Laying with bugs under my shirt
I got plans to hop up in that Hummer
'Cause I'mma stunner, I sit back and wonder
When them angels gon' call my number
Under, my chest is a heart of a lion
I ain't lieing , bounty hunters got me flying
With my iron, high as a giant
I'm running from nothing, my stomach is touching
What I'm clutching, to give you more then a concussion
End of discussion
My blood is colder, so I'm bolder
And it's either soda
Hood on my my shoulder
Looking in the mirror, I see a soldier
[50 Cent]
Right now I'm on the edge
So don't push me
I aim straight for your head
So don't push me
Fill your ass up with lead
So don't push me
I got something for your ass, keep thinking I'm pussy
Right now I'm on the edge
So don't push me
I aim straight for your head
So don't push me
Fill your ass up with lead
So don't push me
I got something for your ass, keep thinking I'm pussy
[Eminem]
These are my ideas
This is my sweat and tears
This is shit that I solved with my balls, my ears
This is me who's gotta be
What you see on TV
What you hear on CD
What appears easy
Man these teenie boppers see me on these magazine covers
In these beanies and these rags, living fantasies
Fronting like it's all fun and games
Till they shoot 'em up bang
Then you see brains hang and you see we ain't playing
Ain't saying we ain't laying down at night and ain't praying
I bully my way in this game, man I'm done playing
Man I'm done saying that I'm done playing
I'mma start laying any of these motherfucking cocksuckers
There's no way I'mma back down, like a goddamn coward
I can't, how would I look as man bowing to his knees
Like the mad cow disease, let somebody lash out at me
And not lash back out at 'em, please
Oh, whoa, yo, ho, hold up, oh no, not me
Not Marshall, you wanna see Marshall?
I'll show you Marshall, I try to show you art
Put you just pick it apart, so I see I have to start
Showing you fucken old farts a whole other side
I wanted to not show you, so you know you're not dealing with
Some fucken marshmellow, little soft yellow
Punk pussy, who's heart's Jello, 'cause
[50 Cent]
Right now I'm on the edge
So don't push me
I aim straight for your head
So don't push me
Fill your ass up with lead
So don't push me
I got something for your ass, keep thinking I'm pussy
Right now I'm on the edge
So don't push me
I aim straight for your head
So don't push me
Fill your ass up with lead
So don't push me
I got something for your ass, keep thinking I'm pussy
. . .
|
|
[Hook]
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
[50 Cent]
Some say I'm paranoid I say I'm careful how I choose my friends
Been to ICU once I ain't going again
First Zee got murked, then Raw got murked
An homies still in the hood, why he ain't getting hurt
I smell somethin' fishy man it might be a rat
Damn niggaz switchin sides on niggaz just like that
U know me, I stay wit a bitch on her knees
An get guns away in the hood like government cheese
Spray on Suzuki's eleven hundred cc's
More plate on the back, straight squeezing a Mak
In the hood they identify niggaz by they cars
So I switch up whips to stay off the radar
I ain't gotta be around to make shit hot
I send Yayo to dump 30 shots on ya block
So spray dat Tec nigga if I say get it done
An make it wet niggaz if you round me son
[Hook]
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck going through hell
I gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck goin through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck going through hell
I gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
[50 Cent]
When I come through the hood, I don't stop the rapping niggaz
Get close enough to smack, get it clappin nigga
Pac tried to front so I waved the chrome on his ass
Point blank range I span put a bone on his ass
Two weeks later niggaz came through with Maks to lay me down
Then sprayed I played Dami me get the fuck off the ground
Out the blue I get a phone call ?50 waddup?
U send a bitch at me I send the bitch back cut up
I don't play that pussy shit, I done told you boy
Front on me, you gon meet one of my soldiers boy
Cause Entwain shot up his mamma crib an now he in Jail
Trippin on Fliks an bogger trail, pussy in black tail
Pack mamma moved, but she don't talk to him no more
The shells from twains 4-4, blew the hinge off her do'
Without that Tec every month how she gon pay for the crib
Man social service finis' come an take dem kids
[Hook]
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck going through hell
I gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck goin through hell
I gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
[50 Cent]
Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can I change the courage
the change the things I can, but wisdom know the difference
But A, Ade did a make you say dat I say dat
Thas the grade A burnin ya head when you a case act
Man I might talk to you while we up in the Benz
But when we come home, dat don't mean we gon fuck an be friends
Shells smash ya head close enough to hear 'em whistling
Thank god they missed you, an go grab ya pistol
In the hood niggaz runnin round actin crazy
Buyin little air Jordan's for maybe babies
See it might be his, an it might be yours
Cause them broads in the projects is straight up whores
Man it don't take much for you to get in them draws
You ain't can have 'em on they back or on all fours
You got to tell me, you feelin this shit
Because I hear what I'm sayin I know I'm killin this shit
[Hook]
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck goin through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck goin through hell
I gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck going through hell
I gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
. . .
|
|
[Intro: 50 Cent]
It's 50 a.k.a Ferrari F-50
Break it down
I got a lot of living to do before I die
And I ain't got tyme to waste
Let's make it
[50 Cent]
You said you a gansta but you neva pop nuttin'
You said you a wanksta and you need to stop frontin'
You ain't a friend of mine, (huh)
You ain't no kin of mine, (nah)
What makes you think that I'ma run up on you with tha nine
We do this all tha tyme, right now we on tha grind
So hurry up and copy and go selling nicks and dimes
Shorty she so fyne, I gotta make her mine
A ass like dat gotta be one of a kind
I crush 'em everytime, punch 'em with every nine
I'm fuckin with they mind
I make 'em press rewind
They know they can't shine if I'm around the rhyme
Been on Paroza's, 94 cuz I commit tha crime
I send you my line, I did it three ta nine
If D's ran up in my crib, you know who droppin dimes
[Chorus 2X: 50 Cent]
You said you a gangsta
But you neva pop nuttin
You said you a wanksta
And you need to stop frontin'
You go to the dealership
But you neva cop nuttin'
You been hustlin a long tyme
And you ain't got nuttin
[Verse 2]
Damn Homie, in highskew you was tha man, homie
What tha fuck happened to you?
I got tha sickest phonetta, when it come to tha chedda
And if you play wit my paper, you gotta meet my berretta
Now shorty think I'ma sweat her, sippin on amoretta
I'm livin once than deada, I know I can do betta
She look good but I know she after my chedda
She tryna get in my pockets, homie and I ain't gonna let her
Be easy, stop tha bullshit, you get your whole crew wet
We in tha club doin' the same ol' two step
Gorilla unit cuz they say we bugged out
Cuz we don't go nowhere without toast we thugged out
[Chorus 2X]
[Verse 3]
Me I'm no monsta, me I'm no gangsta
Me I'm no hitman, me I'm jus me, me
Me I'm no wanksta, me I'm no acta
But it's me you see on your TV
Cuz I hustle baby, this rap shit is so easy
I'm gettin' what you get for a brick to talk greasy
By any means, partner, I got to eat on these streets
If you play me close, for sure I'm gonna pop my heat
Niggas sayin they goin murd' 50, how?
We ridin 'round with guns the size of Lil Bow Wow
What you know about AK's and AR 15's?
Equipped with night vision, shell catchers and dem things, huh
[Chorus 2X]
. . .
|
|
NYPD, LAPD, NYPD (When it's on, that's who you get, huh?)
NYPD, LAPD, NYPD (That's your motherfuckin' click, huh?)
NYPD, LAPD, NYPD (You a motherfuckin' snitch, huh?)
NYPD, LAPD, NYPD
[Verse]
Niggaz wanna shine like me (me), rhyme like me (me)
Then walk around with a 9 like me (me)
They don't wanna do it, 3 to 9 like me
And they ain't strong enough to take 9 like me
Aiyoo, you think about shittin' on 50... save it
My songs belong in the Bible with King David
I teach niggaz sign language, that ain't def son
[click, click] you heard that? That mean RUN
Ask around, I ain't the one you wanna stun on, pa
Pull through, I'll throw a fuckin cocktail at ya' car
From the last shootout, I got a demple on my face
It's nothin', I could go after Mase's fanbase
Shell hit my jaw, I ain't wait for doctor to get it out
Hit my wisdom tooth *huck-too* spit it out
I don't smile a lot, cause ain't nothin' pretty
Got a purple heart for war, and I ain't never left the City
Hos be like "Fitty, you so witty"
On the dick like they heard I ghostwrite for P.Diddy
You got fat while we starve, it's my turn
I done felt how the shells burn, I still won't learn
Won't learn
[Chorus 2X]
If you get shot and run to the cop - You not like me
You ain't got no work on the block - You not like me
It's hot, you ain't got no drop - You not like me
Like me duke, you not like me
[Verse]
Moma said..
Everything that happened to us, was part of God's plan
So at night when I talk him, I got my gun in my hand
Don't think I'm crazy, cause I don't fear man
Cause I feel when I kill a man, God won't understand
I got a head full of evil thoughts, am I Satan
I been coulda killed these niggaz, I'm still waitin
In the telly with to whores, a Benz with to doors
32 carrots in the traws, no flaws
You see me in the hood, I got atleast two guns
I carry the glock, Tony carry my M-1s
Hold me down nigga, OGs tryin' to rock me
D's waitin for my response to lock me
This is my hustle, nigga don't knock me
You need some shit with banana clips to try and stop me
I'M THE ONE
[Chorus 2x]
If you get shot and run to the cop - You not like me
You ain't got no work on the block - You not like me
It's hot, you ain't got no drop - You not like me
Like me duke, you not like me
[Verse]
See, I done been to the Pearly Gates, they sent me back
The good die young, I ain't eligable for that
I shot niggaz, I been shot, sold crack in the street
My attitude is gangsta, so I stand some beef
You wanna get acquainted with me, you wanna know me
From 3 point range, with a glock, I shoot better then Kobe
See a nigga standin' next to me, he probably my Co-D
See a bitch gettin in my whip, she probably gon' blow me
See the flow is like a 38, it's special yoooooo
A country boy tell ya, I'm fittin' to blowwwww
I'm more like a pimp, then a trick, you knowwww
See, I'm in this for the paper, I don't love the hooos
Niggaz broke in the hood, worried about mines
Grown ass men, wearin starter piece shines
You know them little pieces, with the little stones
Got little clientele fiends call your cell phones
When the gossip starts, I'm always the topic
You too old for that shit dog, why don't you stop it
Shorty, I been watchin you watchin me
Now tell me what you like more, my watch or me
Haha
[Chorus 2x]
If you get shot and run to the cop - You not like me
You ain't got no work on the block - You not like me
It's hot, you ain't got no drop - You not like me
Like me duke, you not like me
[Ad-libing to the end]
. . .
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Nobody likes me
Nobody likes me, but that's okay
Cause I don't like y'all anyway
... And I don't like y'all anyway
Fuck all y'all!!
My watch talk for me, my whip talk for me
My gat talk for me
BLAT! Whattup homie
For bitches who don't know me
... They wanna blow me
Cause the shit I floss wit sayin a lot for me
[Verse One]
I came into rap humble, I don't give a fuck now
Serve anybody like niggaz who hustle uptown
Coke price go up, cats is come down
The D's run in my crib, I'm nowhere to be found
The bitch who hustle for me, they dont even stash tracks
They keep it on 'em, right there in they ass crack
When I don't like a nigga, I don't pretend to
I'll have the paramedics wrap your fuckin head like a Hindu
Look, I ain't goin nowhere, so get used to me
OG's look at me and see what they used to be
I'm that nigga that sold coke, the nigga that sold dope
The nigga that shot Dice when he broke to So So
The thug, they pop shit, the thug that pop clips
The thug that went from three and a half to whole bricks
Nigga ain't in his right mind, goin against me
My picture's painted through words that make a blind man see
[Hook]
Scream murder! (I don't believe you!)
Murder! (Fuck around and leave you!)
Murder! (I don't believe you!)
Murder, murder! (Your life's on the line!)
[Verse Two]
Y'all niggaz don't want no parts of me
I'm tryna figure out how y'all started me
Make me catch her on the late night
Pop shots wit the fifth and slide off wit the six
I'm not a marksmen while spark issue, I spray random
Not a pretty nigga but my moms think I'm handsome
I hate to hear "He say, She say" shit
Unless he say she say she on my dick
It's no coincidence, niggaz who fuck wit me get shot up
I do a Cali style drive by and tear ya block up
You soft through, be puttin up a crazy front
I stay wit the Mac, cause niggaz tried to blaze me once
In the hood they be like, "Damn, 50 really spitted on 'em"
"You heard that shit?" "Yeah, 50 really shitted on 'em"
Beef, you don't want none, so don't start none
You just a small player in this game, play a part son
[Hook]
[Verse Three]
These cats always escape reality when they rhyme
That's why they write about bricks and only dealt wit dimes
Leave it to them, and they say they got a fast car
Nascar, truck wit a crash bar, and TV's in the dash, pa
See 'em in the five wit stock rims, I just laugh, pa
I catch stunts when I ain't tryin
I ain't lyin, I sit Dom P til I split up
Keep my rent split up
Get outta line, I get you hit up (Wooo!)
Now if you say my name in your rhyme, watch what you say
You get carried away, you can get shot and carried away
Now here's a list of MC's that can kill you in eight bars:
50, umm Jay-Z and Nas
I'ma say this shit now and never again
We ain't buddies, we ain't partners and we damn sure ain't friends
The games you playin, you get killed like that
Actin like you all hard, you ain't built like that
See me when you see me nigga, one (one)
[Hook]
Y'all niggaz don't want no parts of me
I'm tryna figure out how y'all started me
You gon make me catch her on the late night
Pop shots wit the fifth and slide off wit the six
. . .
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