G-Unit (Bo!) We in here (Bo!)
We can get the drama popping, we don't care (Bo! bo! bo!)
It's going down (Bo!) Cause I'm around (Bo!)
50 Cent, you know how I gets down
What up, Blood? (What?)
What up, Cuz? (What?)
What up, Blood? (What?)
What up, gangsta?
What up, Blood? (What?)
What up, Cuz? (What?)
What up, Blood? (What?)
What up, gangsta?
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 a sport
Front on me, I'll cut ya gun-butt ya or bump ya
You getting money? I can't get none with ya, then f*ck 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, them 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
Jux me, I'll have your mama picking out your casket, bastard
I'm on the next level, Breitling baguette bezel
Benz pedal to the metal, hotter than a tea kettle, blood (what)
What up, Blood? (What?)
What up, Cuz? (What?)
What up, Blood? (What?)
What up, gangsta?
What up, Blood? (What?)
What up, Cuz? (What?)
What up, Blood? (What?)
What up, gangsta?
We don't play that
We don't play that
We don't play that (G-Unit)
We don't play around
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 f*ck with is a dime
I'm like Patti 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 hoes f*ck us, in the hood they love us
Stomp a bone out your ass with some brand new Chuckers
What up, Blood? (What?)
What up, Cuz? (What?)
What up, Blood? (What?)
What up, gangsta?
What up, Blood? (What?)
What up, Cuz? (What?)
What up, Blood? (What?)
What up, gangsta?
We don't play that
We don't play that
We don't play that (G-Unit)
We don't play around
We don't play that
We don't play that
We don't play that (G-Unit)
We don't play around
We don't play that
We don't play that
We don't play that (G-Unit)
We don't play around
We don't play that
We don't play that
We don't play that (G-Unit)
We don't play around
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
You's a fucking fake ass connect, mane
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
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
_-_--_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
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 niggas switching sides on niggas just like that
You 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 niggas 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 that Tec nigga if I say get it done
An make it wet niggas if you round me son
I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
When I come through the hood, I don't stop the rapping niggaz
Get close enough to smack, get it clapping 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 niggas came through with Maks to lay me down
Then sprayed I played dead and got the f*ck off the ground
Out the blue I get a phone call, 50 what up?
You 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 and take them kids
I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change, the courage
To change the things I can, but wisdom to know the difference
But A, Ade did a make you say that I say that
That's the credit put in your head when you a case act
Man I might talk to you while we up in the Penz
But when we come home, that don't mean we goin' f*ck 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 niggas running round acting crazy
Buying 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 feeling this shit
Because I hear what I'm saying I know I'm killing this shit
I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_6_6_6_6_6_-_-_
Yea, 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 time to waste. Let's make it
You say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothing
We say you a wanksta, then you need to stop fronting
You ain't a friend of mine,(yea) you ain't no kin to mine,(c'mon)
What makes you think that I won't run up on you wit the nine, (uh huh)
We do this all the time (what), right now we on the grind (yea)
So hurry up and cop and go resell it nicks and dimes, (uh huh)
Shortie, she so fine, I gotta make her mine,
A ass like that, gotta be one of a kind,(Whoo)
I crush em every time, punch em wit every line
I'm fucking with they mind, I make em press rewind
They know they can't shine, If I'm around to rhyme
Been on parole since ninety four, cause I commit the crime
I say them my line, I did it three to nine
The D's ran up in my crib, you know who drop the dime
You say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothing,
You say you a wanksta, then you need to stop fronting
You go to the dealership, but you don't never cop nothing
You been hustling a long time, but you ain't got nothing
You say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothing
You say you a wanksta, then you need to stop fronting
You go to the dealership, but you never cop nothing
You been hustling long time, but you ain't got nothing
Damn homie,
In high school you was the man homie
What the f*ck happened to you, I got the sickest vendetta, when it come to the chedda,(uh huh)
Nigga, you play with my paper, you gon meet my baretta
Now shortie think I'm a sweat her,(uh huh) I'm sippin on Amaretto, (yea)
I'm out here doin stilleta, I know I could do betta
She look good, but I know she after my chedda
She tryin to get in my pockets, homie, and I ain't gon let her
Be easy, start some bullshit, you get your whole crew wet
We in the club doin the same ol two step
Gorilla unit 'cause, they say we bugged out
Cause we don't go nowhere without toast be thugged out
You say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothing,
You say you a wanksta, then you need to stop fronting
You go to the dealership, but you don't never cop nothing
You been hustling a long time, but you ain't got nothing
You say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothing
You say you a wanksta, then you need to stop fronting
You go to the dealership, but you never cop nothing
You been hustling long time, but you ain't got nothing
Me, I'm no mobster, me, I'm no gangsta
Me, I'm no hit man, (yea) me, I'm just me
Me, I'm not wanksta, me, I'm no actor
But it's me you see, on your TV, cause I hustle babe
This rap shit is so easy, I'm getting what you get for a brick, to talk greasy
By any means, partner, I got to eat on these streets
When you play me close, fa' sure, I'ma pop my heat
Niggas say they goin' murder 50, how
We riding round wit guns the size, of Lil' Bow Wow
What you know about AK's and are-15's
Equipped wit night vision, shell catchers and empties, huh
You say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothing,
You say you a wanksta, then you need to stop fronting
You go to the dealership, but you don't never cop nothing
You been hustling a long time, but you ain't got nothing
You say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothing
You say you a wanksta, then you need to stop fronting
You go to the dealership, but you never cop nothing
You been hustling long time, but you ain't got nothing
Damn homie!