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from 50 Cent - Get Rich Or Die Tryin' (2003)
New York City...
You are now rockin with 50 cent.. Are you ready? (Gun click) I said are you ready? See you wit me nigga? DROP DEAD. (mumbles:) Paid for a hooptie but I wanted a drop "G UNIT" "Somthin new" I'm not that nigga in your video I'm not a trick I don't love the hoes and Niggaz know, I be on the low but I miss my dawg and I twist my drawer I'm not that nigga that you think you know I walk around with a big fo-fo You front on me I'm gone get at your dawg I be at rite are your crib, right at your door What up 50? Coming up I ain't have much, but I wanted alot I had paper for a hoopty but I wanted a drop so you know, I had make somthing outta nothin Like turn an empty spot into a crack spot pumpin im so hard at nine-teen I bought a benz, I did. The older niggaz really wasn't feelin the kid Try to find where I live so they could run in my crib but you can't hustle a hustler I peeped it and slid Back then, Niggaz used to call me bo At six months I told them "Million go tops on Gar-bo" Country came around, hes into clappin country left, same shit started happening Like "He shot rob for some ends, rob shot joe for some skins, Cory shot drew and we was friends, money turned boys into men The cycle never changes, shit just starts again.. "naw nigga, ain't nuthin changed nigga, yea I've been gone for a minute, but I'm BACK!" (damn 50 it's good to see you back in the hood) you see my cherry red SL nigga I'm doin good sometimes I can't find the words to say how I feel so, I take a quote from menace "LOOK AT THE WHEELS!!" I'm addicted to stuntin, now that I'm holdin something, I got a trunk full of guns from VA to ? (oh will you let me hold something?) nigga you high or something? I don't play games I'm bout my money nigga buy something! I got a few 5ths, I got a few 9's, Here nigga take one... "yea, don't ever say I don't do nothing for you nigga, you kno don't say I didn't look out for you. KnowhatImean? But make sure nigga that you go catch some jokes when you come back you gonna have my paper for that thang thang knowhatI'msayin? I don't want it back, don't try to use it then give it back to me Cuz I ya'll niggaz now, runnin around sayin "50 getting all this rap money and he won't help us" ha ha... Sit tight nigga I'm comin! You know? New shit!!! All the shit I put out on the mix tapes is for the mix tapes I got a million... ... OH MY GOD!! My shit is so hot right now I'm in the zone |
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from 50 Cent - Get Rich Or Die Tryin' (2003)
G-Unit
Bo! We in here Bo! We can get the drama poppin' We don't care Bo! Bo! Bo! It's goin' down Bo! Cause I'm around Bo! 50 Cent, you know how I get's down What up blood? What? What up cous? What? What up blood? What? What up gangsta? What up blood? What? What up cous? What? What up blood? What? What up gangsta? They say I walk around like I got an "S" on my chest Naw, that's a semi-auto, and a vest on my chest I try not to say nuttin' 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 gettin 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 pickin' out your casket bastard I'm on the next level, right lane forget bezzle Benz pedal to the metal, hotter than a tea kettle, blood. What? What up cous? What? What up blood? What? What up gangsta? What up blood? What? What up cous? 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 fifth kick, duck quick, it sound 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 rollin stone Cross my path I'll crush ya, thinkin I won't touch ya I'll have your ass usin 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. What up blood? What? What up cous? What? What up blood? What? What up gangsta? What up blood? What? What up cous? 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. |
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from 50 Cent - Get Rich Or Die Tryin' (2003)
<b>50 Cent</b>
Ay EM you know my favorite white boy right I... I owe you for this one <b>50 Cent</b> (Chorus) I've been patiently waiting For a track to explode on (yeah) You can get stunned if you want And yo ass'll get rolled on (it's 50) It feels like my flow's Been hot for so long (yeah) If you thinkin' I'm a fuckin' fall off you're so wrong (it's 50) <b>50 Cent</b> I've been pacing in my head Like a baby born dead Destination heaven Sittin politic with passengers from 9-11 The Lords blessing left me lyrically incline Shit I aint even got to try to shine God's a seamstress who tailorfitted my pain I got scriptures in my brain I can spit at your dame Straight out the good book Look niggas 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 pops Should that make me bitter I caught cases and cocked out Does that make me a quitter In this white man's world I'm similar to a squirrel 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 niggas ain't friends They know how to pretend (Chorus x2) <b>Eminem</b> You've been patiently waiting To make it through all the hate Debating whether or not You can even weather the storm As you lay on the table They operating to save you It's like an 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 playing sick They ain't shit they ain't saying shit Spray umh 50 [gun shots] A to the K get in the way I bring Dre and them wit me And turn this day into fucking mayhem You staying wit me? Don't let me lose you I'm not trying to confuse you When I let loose wit this Uzi And just shoot through your Izuzu You get the message Am I getting through to you You know it's coming You motherfuckers don't even know do you Take some BIG and some Pac And you mix them up in a pot Sprinkle a lil "BIG L" on top What the fuck do you got? You got the realest and illest killers Tied up in a knot The juggernauts of this rap shit Like it or not it's like a fight to the top Just to see who die for the spot You put your life in this Nothing like surviving 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 a lot 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 there's nothing spookier Your now about to witness the power of fuckin' 50 (Chorus) 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 fucking top blown off (It's 50, Man that wasn't 50) They don't holla my name <b>50 Cent</b> You shouldn't 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 J Your going against me dogg You makin' a mistake I split yo lip You lookin like them Michael Jackson 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 hoe's" I got pennies for my thoughts 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 Muthafucka' (Chorus x2) |
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from 50 Cent - Get Rich Or Die Tryin' (2003)
(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 dog 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 Sunnny 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 in 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 Psyic 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 Hamo 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 |
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from 50 Cent - Get Rich Or Die Tryin' (2003)
Go, go, go, go, go, go
Go, shorty It's your birthday We gon' party like it's your birthday We gon' sip Bacardi like it's your birthday And you know we don't give a fuck it's not your birthday! You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub Look, mami, I got the X, if you into takin' drugs I'm into havin' sex, I ain't into makin' love So come give me a hug, if you into getting rubbed You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub Look, mami, I got the X, if you into takin' drugs I'm into havin' sex, I ain't into makin' love So come give me a hug, if you into getting rubbed 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 hoes down, G's up I see Xzibit in the Cut, 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 don't walk wit' a limp (I'm ight) In the hood, in L.A, they 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 I'm loco And the plan is to put the rap game in a choke hold I'm full of focused man, my money on my mind I got a mill out the deal and I'm still on the grind Now shorty said she feeling my style, she feeling my flow Her girlfriend wanna get bi and they ready to go You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub Look, mami, I got the X, if you into takin' drugs I'm into havin' sex, I ain't into makin' love So come give me a hug, if you into getting rubbed You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub Look, mami, I got the X, if you into takin' drugs I'm into havin' sex I, ain't into makin' love So come give me a hug, if you into getting rubbed My flow, my show brought me the doe That bought me all my fancy things My crib, my cars, my clothes, my jewels Look, nigga, I done came up and I ain't change 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 jaws get to bumpin' in the club it's on I wink my eye at you, 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 and watch the money pile up Or we go upside they head wit' a bottle of bub They know where we fuckin' be You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub Look, mami, I got the X, if you into takin' drugs I'm into havin' sex, I ain't into makin' love So come give me a hug, if you into getting rubbed You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub Look, mami, I got the X, if you into takin' drugs I'm into havin' sex, I ain't into makin' love So come give me a hug, if you into getting rubbed Don't try to act like you ain't know where we been either, nigga, But I lo chupe a junior, yeah In the club all the time, nigga, it's about to pop off, nigga G-Unit |
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from 50 Cent - Get Rich Or Die Tryin' (2003)
(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 chjocolate 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 U aint' gettin money u ain't smokin In my Benzo 20 inch Lorenzos smokin on indo Hiigh as a muthaf***a I be on them backstreets niggas know i clap heat only if u got beef Man u better holla at me Niggas get locked up stabbedup shot up Everytime i pop up a lot goin on in my hood I shoot the dice holler get em girls Daddy need new shoes Daddy need Perelli's to look mean on 22s Stash box X box fax machine phone Bullet proof this b****h and iam gone 2003 Surban 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 da night in central Booking for smoking some bud (chorus) (verse 2) now if u heard i done started some shit it ain't becuz i be high ( i be high i be high) And if u heard i done let off a clip It aint becuz i be high(i be high ibe high) But i twist that la la la la I get high as i wanna nigga go agaianst 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 u love me tell me u love, stare at me man I'd hate to be in the benz clappin 1 of my fans let me show u how to greet me when u meet me when u see me IF u real my nigga u know how to holla"G-UNIT" There's no competition its just me 50cent, muthaf***a, Iam 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 u know besides me who writte lines and squeeze nines And have hoes in the hood sniffin on white lines u don't want me to be your kids role model I'll teach them how to 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 Ginness, watchin Menace Then Oh Lord, have yong nigg bucking s**t like he O-DOG My team they depend on me when its crunch time I eat a nigga food in broad day like its lunch time u feelin brave nigga? go ahead get gully See if I don't leave yor bain leaking up out your skully I done made myself hot so ain't sh** u can tell me Niggas callin me the feature, man fuck yo money I ain't hurtin I'm aight nigga Iam doin good I ain't gotta write rhymes, I Got bricks in the hood (chorus) G-UNIT, are u ready G-UNIT,are u ready Nigga, ready or not here I come ,come,come |
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from 50 Cent - Get Rich Or Die Tryin' (2003)
(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 on the nigga" "Man SHUT the fuck up" "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 D.A. 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 hop out the top like Jack-in-da-box (yeah!) In the hood summer time is the killing season It's hot out this bitch that's a good 'nuff reason (wooh!) I've seen gangsta's get religious when they start bleedin Sayin "Lord, Jesus Help Me" cause they ass leakin When that 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 Cause we gonna 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 dat 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 yo 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 yo 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 motherfucka I can hire some help I done heard about the 50 grand you put in the hood But ya shootin' 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 and 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, haha, aye Dre You got me feelin real bulletproof up in this motherfucka Cuz the 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 But better that then a hole in the head right nigga, haha ha ha |
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from 50 Cent - Get Rich Or Die Tryin' (2003)
Yea, ha ha, yea..........yea
(hook - 50 Cent) If I can't do it, homie, 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) (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, homie, 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) (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 VOLVO 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 it, homie, 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) (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 gotsta put in her two cents I'm the drop out who made more more money than these teachers 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, homie, 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 it, homie, 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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from 50 Cent - Get Rich Or Die Tryin' (2003)
(50 Cent)
G-Unit, UTP Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha G-Unit, UTP, G-Unit, UTP G-Unit, UTP, 50 Cent, get 'em Buck (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) |
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from 50 Cent - Get Rich Or Die Tryin' (2003)
Yeah, G-G-G-G-G-Unit! G-Unit!
Haha... (Chorus) It's easy to see when you look at me If you look closely, 50 don't back down Everywhere I go both coast with toast Eastside, Westside, I hold that mack down Every little nigga you see around me Hold a gun big enough to fucking 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 succes is not enough, you wanna be hard Knowing that, if you get knocked, you get fucked in the yard Youza poptart sweetheart, you soft in the middle I eat ya 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 like to be Suge You can buy cars but you can't buy respect in the hood Maybe I'm so disrespectfull cuz to me you're a mistery I know niggas from your hood, you have no history Never poked nothing, never popped nothing, nigga stop frontin Jay put you on, X made you hot Now you run around like you some big shot ha, ha pussy... (Chorus) It's easy to see when you look at me If you look closely, 50 don't back down Everywhere I go both coast with toast Eastside, Westside, I hold that mack down Every little nigga you see around me Hold a gun big enough to fucking 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. "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 little punk ass thinking out loud Southside till I die, that's just how I get down I'm back in the game shorty, 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 Mitsubishi Tah's and crack child Them niggas 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 man" Now stay the fuck outta my zone, outta my throne I'm New York City's own... bad guy Bad guy. (Chorus) It's easy to see when you look at me If you look closely, 50 don't back down Everywhere I go both coast with toast Eastside, Westside, I hold that mack down Every little nigga you see around me Hold a gun big enough to fucking 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. I ain't gonna tell nobody you pussy I ain't gonna tell nobody you gettin extored It ain't over...G-Unit! I've been patiently waiting to blow Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the "50 Cent Show" This is my life, my pain, my knife, my gun Now that I'm back, you can't sleep I'm a nightmare huh You hired cops to hold you down cuz you fear for you life well you done heard bout them guns I done bought, right? I ain't going nowhere, I done told you nigga I'm a G-Unit muthafuckin' soldier nigga They not gon like you I know, I know... haha G-Unit! "Oh, no he didn't say anything about Ja. Okay? Ja is my boo. Okay? Jeffrey Atkins ain't never hurt nobody. And y'all know! Big things come in small packages! Holla! Now, everything was cool until 50 Cent came back into the picture. They better not put they hands on Jeffrey. Okay? 'Cause first of all, they do not know that I am a 12-degree pink belt. Okay? I will dice his ass up like a little piece of celery. Okay? 'Cause see, they don't know me. Delicious, do they know me? Okay, I thought so. 'Cause you know that I know karate, and I will see him and I will Jet Li his ass. Whoo-doo!" |
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from 50 Cent - Get Rich Or Die Tryin' (2003)
Get Rich or Die tryin
(Chorus 2x) 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 (Verse1) Now shorty she in da club, she's dancing for dollars She got a thing for that Gucci, that Fendi, that Prada That BCBG, Burberry, Dolce & Gabbana She's feeding fools fantasies they pay her cuz they want her I spit a little G man and my game got her A hour later had her ass up in the Ramada Them trick niggas in they 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 cuz I'm from New York I aint that nigga trying to holla cuz I want some head I'm that nigga trying to holla cuz I want some bread I could care less how she perform while she in the bed Bitches that try catch a date and come and play the kid Look baby this is simple you cant see, you fucking with me you fucking with a P-I-M-P (Chorus 2x) (Verse 2) I'm by 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 some 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 need some one, I'm the one you should call Ill be there to pick you up if ever you should fall If you got problems I could solve them, they big or they small That other nigga you be with aint about shit I'm your friend, your father, AND confidant, BITCH (Chorus 2x) (Verse 3) Shorty I told you fools before, I stay with the twos I keep a Benz, some rims, and some jewels I holla at a hoe till 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 ho, you could have her when I'm done I aint gonna keep her Man bitches come and go, every nigga and pimp they know They say mystique but you aint gotta keep it on the low Bitch tutor me how you strippin in the street Put my other hoes down you get your ass beat Now lick my bottom bitch, you always come up with my bread The last nigga she was with put stitches in her head Get your hoe outta pocket I put a charge on the bitch Cuz I need 4 TVs and they Mgs for a 6 Hoe make the pimp rich, I aint payin bitch Catch a dick, such a dick shiiiiiit...trick (Chorus 2x) Yea, In Hollywood they say there's no business like show business In the hood they say there's no business like ho business you know See I talk a little fast, but if you listen real fast I aint gotta slow down for you 2 catch up BITCH Hahaha, Yea |
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from 50 Cent - Get Rich Or Die Tryin' (2003)
(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 my style (Uh huh) You like how I break it down I know you like my style You like how I break it down Wanna get rich, I'll show you how Wanna get rich, I'll show you how On your mark, get set, lets go Switch the flow teach ya how to turn Yayo into Dough The original dan-dadda Nobody bum harder You heard what I said boy I'm hot I'm hot! You hoodrats, they say "He is so crazy" Its not just they say "He tried to spray me" But thats what you get for tryna play me The aftermath on my rap is so shady! No matter how you try you can't stop this I'll catch you stuntin relently crew cockpit If you a pimp why your hoes stay out your pocket? Fine find out how my P-40 glock is (Tony Yayo) 50 you need some help? (50 cent) Chill Yayo I got this So where I'm from and the B's tryna knock us I swear to god that its me sellin the choppa's Man I ain't givin them lil' niggas no products (Chorus) (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 Wanna get rich I'll show you how (50 Cent) You birds they say I got a way with words I'll be like "Babygirl I like them curves" If your not busy tonight then we can swirve I'm a batchler baby fuck what you heard! I'ma tell you in 10 minutes I'll make you a believer Tony touch will have you shakin like you havin a seizure I'll makes hits about what I do on my leisure G-Unit gang can't another click out there see us Niggaz lipsynce the lyrics cause they wanna be us Groupy hoes from the hood they be tryna G us Tryna holla at the kid errytime they see us Girlfriend quit pretendin I'm the nigga you lovin And I ain't got to say nuttin' you know that I'm thuggin Put my hands on that ass seein you say that I'm buggin "We family baby", kissin cousins Now look with the riff-raff done druggin For the G's my degrees is hotter than your oven I'ma New Yorker but I sound southern And we sip DP till the don stop buggin After we play OK go to your husband (Chorus) (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 Wanna get rich I'll show you how Em said your gon' like my style Dre said your gon' like my style I said you gon' like my style You don't like how I break it down (Tony Yayo) You're not, really really, ready ready The drama will have ya ass in trama boy You're not, really really, ready ready My knife flip open and then I gets to poken You're not, really really, ready ready Them shows start poppin them bodies start to drop in You're not, really really, ready ready (50 Cent) You think your ready? You're not.... Really really, ready ready |
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from 50 Cent - Get Rich Or Die Tryin' (2003)
[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 F**k around we crip-walking in the wrong hood I'm fresh up out the slammer, I ain't no f**king 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 f**k 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) |
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from 50 Cent - Get Rich Or Die Tryin' (2003)
(50 Cent)
New York City You are now riding With 50 Cent You gotta love it I just wanna chill and twist a lot Catch stunts 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 gotta 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 in Burger King Would you be ashamed to tell your friends you feelin' me? And in the bed if I use 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 can 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 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 lovin'? Are you mad 'cause I'm askin' you 21 questions? Are you my soul mate? 'Cause if so, girl you a blessing Do you trust me enough, to tell me your dreams? I'm starin' at ya' trying 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? We only humans 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 (Nate Dogg) 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 |
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from 50 Cent - Get Rich Or Die Tryin' (2003)
I need you 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 headed, 'Cause I know where I been Flows, bones crushin', it's nothin' I come up with sum'n Come through your strip, frontin', stuntin' It's sum'n you want 745 chrome spinnin's, Haters hate that I'm winnin' Man, I been hot from the beginnin' Muthafuckas, envy the kid Control your jealousy 'Cause I can't control ma temper I'm in to catch a felony Pistol in hand, homie I'm down to get it top Who wants to squeeze da first shot You know I ain't stop, 'til ma clip is empty I'm simply, Not that nigga used to try your luck, What da fuck, wait-- Holla tip shells is strup Wit' yo bones broke, gun smokin', still open, What-nigga lay yo ass down, paramedics get ya up Right now, I'm on da edge So don't push me I aim straight fo' yo head So don't push me Fill yo ass up with lead So don't push me I got sum'n fo' yo ass, keep thinkin' I'm pussy Right now, I'm on da edge So don't push me I aim straight fo' yo head So don't push me Fill yo ass up with lead So don't push me I got sum'n fo' yo ass, keep thinkin' I'm pussy I almost lost my bigga nigga, and I didn't cry Too young to understand The consequences of a man Livin' a lie, I, Gotta get that money, I be damnin' from bummin' Gotta watch my back around these niggas 'Cause they fun in 20 years And watchin' ma momma tears, got me heated Heavenly weeded Smokin' that bomb, 'cause I need it These niggas don't want me ballin' they want me buried Balled in the dirt from shots flurried Layin' wit' bombs all on my shirt I got plans to hop up in da Hummer 'Cause I'm a stunner I sit back and wonder When dem angels gon' call my number Under My chest is a heart of a lion, lion, lion Pound me, honeys got me flyin' Wit' my iron Eyes are giant I'm runnin' from nuthin' My stomach is touchin' While I'm clutchin' To give you more than a concussion End the discussion My brothers told me so I'm bolder And to see a solder Hurt on my shoulder Look in the mirror I see a soldier Right now, I'm on da edge So don't push me I aim straight fo' yo head So don't push me Fill yo ass up with lead So don't push me I got sum'n fo' yo ass, keep thinkin' I'm pussy Right now, I'm on da edge So don't push me I aim straight fo' yo head So don't push me Fill yo ass up with lead So don't push me I got sum'n fo' yo ass, keep thinkin' I'm pussy These are my ideas, this is my sweat and tears This I shit that I saw with my eye 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 teeny-boppers see me on these magazine covers In these beanies, in these rags Live in fantasies, frontin' Like its all fun 'n games, 'Til the shoot-'em-up, bang And you see your brains hang, And you see we ain't playin', Ain't sayin' we ain't layin' down at night 'n ain't prayin' I bullied my way in this game And I'm done playin', man I'm done sayin' that I'm done playin' I'ma start, layin' any of dese, mothafuckin' cocksuckas There's no way I'ma back down like a god damn coward, I can't How would I look as a man, bowin' 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, but you jus' pick it apart So I see I hafta start Showin' you fuckin' old farts A whole other side, I wanted to not show you, So you know you not Dealin' with some fuckin' marshmallow Little, soft, yellow, punk pussy whose heart's Jell-o (kuz) Right now, I'm on da edge So don't push me I aim straight fo' yo head So don't push me Fill yo ass up with lead So don't push me I got sum'n fo' yo ass, keep thinkin' I'm pussy |
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from 50 Cent - Get Rich Or Die Tryin' (2003)
(Hook)
I gotta makeit 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 (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 Roy 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 give 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 Cause he'll 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, for going through hell Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell I gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven I gotta make it to heaven, for goin through hell Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven I gotta make it to heaven, for 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 to rap to niggaz Get close enough to smack, get it clappin nigga Pop tried to front so I waved the chrome at his ass Point blank range I spazzed blew a bone out his ass Two weeks later niggaz came through with Maks to lay me down They sprayed I played Dead and got the fuck off the ground Out the blue I get a phone call "50 waddup" U send a bitch to 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 Cousin twig shot up his mamma crib, now he in Jail Trippin off Fliks of blue cantrell, pussy and black tail Pop mamma moved, but she don't talk to him no more The shells from twig 4-4, blew the hinge off her do' Without that check 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, for going through hell Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell I 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 goin through hell I gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven (50 Cent) God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change the courage the change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference The A80'll make you say that Thats the prayer they burn in ya head when you in K-SAC Man I might talk to you while we up in the pens But when we come home, dat don't mean we gon fuckin be friends Shells pass 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, for goin through hell Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven I gotta make it to heaven, for goin through hell I 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 I gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven |
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from 50 Cent - Get Rich Or Die Tryin' (2003)
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 You said you a gansta but you neva pop nuttin' We said you a wanksta and you need to stop frontin' You ain't a friend of mine, (yeah) You ain't no kin of mine, (nah) What makes you think that I wont run up on you with the 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 that gotta be one of a kind I crush 'em everytime, punch 'em with every line 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 parole since 94 cause 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 You said you a gangsta But you neva pop nuttin We 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 You said you a gangsta But you neva pop nuttin We 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 Damn Homie, in high school you was tha man, homie What tha fuck happened to you? I got tha sickest vendetta 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 Guerilla unit cuz they say we bugged out Cuz we don't go nowhere without toast we thugged out You said you a gangsta But you neva pop nuttin We 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 You said you a gangsta But you neva pop nuttin We 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 Me I'm no mobsta, 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 You said you a gangsta But you neva pop nuttin We 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 You said you a gangsta But you neva pop nuttin We 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 |
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from 50 Cent - Get Rich Or Die Tryin' (2003)
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 Hey yo, 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 dat? dat 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 dimple 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, dope, 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 fear 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 cross, no flaws You see me in the hood, I got at least 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 dope, 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 KEYSHAWNS 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 dope, you not like me |
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from 50 Cent - Get Rich Or Die Tryin' (2003)
Nobody likes me (brand new by 50 cent)
Nobody likes me, but that's okay Cuz 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! Wutup homie For niggaz who don't know me ...They wanna blow me cuz the shit I floss wit sayin a lot for me I came into rap humble, I don't give a fuck now I Serve anybody like niggas 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 cracks 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 Old G'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 soap The thug, they pop shit The thug that pop clips The thug that went from three and a half to whole brick Nigga ain't in his right mind, goin against me My picture's painted through words that make a blind man see straight (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!) Y'all niggas 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 it, so 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, niggas who fuck wit me get shot up I do a Cali style drive by and tear ya block up You soft dawg, don't be puttin up a crazy front I stay wit the Mac, cuz niggas 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) 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 Don P til I split up Keep my wrist lit 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, (what, what) (Hook) Y'all niggas 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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from Lil' Kim - La Bella Mafia (2003)
(50 cent)
I got the magic stick I know if I can hit once I can hit twice I hit the baddest chicks Shorty don't believe me then call me tonight And I'll show you magic (what what) maagic I got the magic stick I'm a freak to the core Get a dose once you gonna want some more My tongue touch you girl, your toes bound to curl This exclusive stick I don't share with the world I had you up early in the mornin' moanin' Back shots proper the law can't stop us Been a fiend for this since Rakeim made hits Get the position down pat then its time to switch I rock the boat, I work the middle I speed it up, straight beat it up And I ain't in the hood with my toast out loc'n I'm in the telly working up a sweat strokin' Tonight's the night you could fall in love You could call your mama right now tell her you met a thug I talk alot of shit cause i can back it up My left stroke's the death stroke (lil kim) I've got the magic clit I know if I get licked once I get licked twice I am the baddest chick Shorty you don't believe me then call me tonight and I'll show you magic (what what) maagic I've got the magic clit Lil' Kim not a whore but i sex a nigga so good he gotta tell his boys When you come to sex don't test my skills 'Cause my head game have you head over heels Give a 'nigga the chills have him pay my bills Buying matchin Lambos with the same color wheels And I ain't out shoppin' spending dude's c-notes I'm in the crib giving niggas deep throat Tonight Lil' Kim gonna have you in the zone Girls in your crib I'm answering the phone Guys wanna wife me, give me the ring I'll do it anywhere, anyhow, I'm down for anything A couple of humps give a nigga goose bumps This junk in my trunk ain't made for chumps When Lil' Kim's around you don't need to lie It's the drugs baby, I'm making you high (50 Cent) I've got the magic stick I know if I can hit once I can hit twice (Lil' Kim) I am the baddest chick Shorty you don't believe me then call me tonight And I'll show you magic (what, what) (50 Cent) Maagic (Lil' Kim) Uh huh, uh huh I got the magic clit I'll put your face in it I know you're sprung off in your tongue I know you're tasting it (50 Cent) Sex ain't a race (Lil' Kim) But I had a thug nigga breakin' records And the time is..... (50 Cent) One minute six seconds Magic stick (Lil' Kim) I got the magic box (Lil' Kim & 50 Cent) Had that ass trickin' after one back shot (50 Cent) The gifts, the ice I like that a lot (Lil' Kim) The minks, the leathers The C L drop (50 Cent) I got the magic stick I know if I can hit once I can hit twice I hit the baddest chicks Shorty don't believe me then call me tonight And I'll show you magic (what, what) maagic I got the magic stick (Lil' Kim) I know if I get licked once I get licked twice I am the baddest chick Shorty don't believe me then call me tonight And I'll show you magic (what, what) maagic Uh huh, uh huh (Lil' Kim & 50 Cent) I've got the magic stick |
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from Missy Elliott - Under Construction [Explicit Version] (2002)
DJ please, pick up your phone
I'm on the request line This is a Missy Elliott one time exclusive (C'mon, c'mon) *Is it worth it, let me work it I put my thing down, flip it and reverse it Its your fremme neppa vetnette(*2) If you got a big [elephant], let me search it To find out how hard I gotta work it Its your fremme neppa vetnette Now Missy she too much for me (I'm freaky) She took me to to the crib man, she told me (eat me) Now my babymama I told her ass not to beat me Her broke ass wanna fight, Missy know how to treat me She sitting on cash, she got money out the ass Gave her them back shots and got money out her ass Now you can see me in the coupe like WHAT Next time I'll hit her in that G5 TRUCK I've got the magicstick, I can go for hours From the bed to the floor, to the sink to the shower With her back to the bed and her legs to the sky I can go hard, know why, big girls don't cry I had visions of Missy with her money by the tub Ching! Ching! Jackpot, I think I'm in love I'm looking for Missy now so I can get my back rubbed This the shit she hollered in my ear before we left the club>> I'd like to get to know ya, so I can show ya Put the pussy on ya, like I told ya Gimme all your numbers so I can phone ya Your girl acting stank than call me ov-ah Not on the bed, lay me on your sofa Call before you come, I need to shave my cho-cha You do or you don't or you will or you won't cha Go downtown and eat it like a vul-cha See my hips and my tips don'tcha See my ass and my lips don'tcha Lost a few pounds in my whiffs for ya This the kinda beat that go ra-ta-ta Ra-ta-ta-ta, ta-ta-ta-ta-ta Sex me so good I say blah-blah-blah Work it! I need a glass of wat-ah Boy oh boy its good to know ya * Repeat If you're a fly gyal, get your nails done Get a pedicure, get your hair did Boy lift it up, lets make a toast-ah Lets get drunk, its gon bring us clos-ah Don't I look like a Halle Berry post-ah? See dem Belvedere playin tricks on ya Girlfriend wanna be like me nev-ah You won't find a bitch that's even bett-ah I make it hot as Las Vegas weath-ah Listen up close while I take you backwards {*"Watch the way Missy like to take it backwards" - backwards*} I'm not a prostitute but I can give you whatchu want I love your braids and your mouth full of funk Love the way my ass ra-bump ba-bump bump Keep your eyes on my ra-bump ba-bump bump And think you can handle this ga-donk ah-donk donk Take my thong off and my ass go boom Cut the lights off so you see what I can do * Repeat Boys, boys, all type of boys Black, white, Puerto Rican, Chinese boys wang thang thanga thanga thanga thang(*2) Girls, girls, get that cash If its 9 to 5 or shakin ya ass Ain't no shame ladies, do your thang Just make sure you ahead of tha game Just cause I got a lot of fame sup-ah Prince couldn't get me change my name papa Kunta Kinte, enslave a game, no sir Picture black sayin, "Oh yessuh massa" Picture Lil' Kim dating a pastor Minute man, big men can outlast ya Who is the best? I don't have to ask ya When I come out, you won't even matt-ah Why you act dumb like madd dumb So you act dumb like ughhh, duh And the drummer boy go pa-rum pa-pum pum Give ya some some some of this Cinnabon * Repeat To my fellas, ooooh Good God, I like the way you work that {*scratching*} To my ladies, woo You sure know how to work that, good God |
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from Bring It On (브링 잇 온) by Christophe Beck [ost] (2000) | |||||
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from Cradle 2 The Grave (크레이들 투 그레이브) by John Frizzell [ost] (2003)
(50)
Yeah.. Ja, you ready? Drop that Ferrari F 50 style baby (yeah, yeah) I'ma show 'em how I do it (yeah, yeah) G-g-g-g-g G-UNIT! I keep hearin' niggas is happy, the D's come, niggas wit guns When I'm out on bail, ridin' wit' some new ones Big got hit in that passenger seat Pac got hit in that passenger seat Now I'm ridin' 'round in that passenger seat Come near the whip, I'm blastin' my heat It don't take long, for my juvenile delinquent thinkin' to sink in The consequences mean nothin', those semi auto's is bustin' Crack sellin', predicate villain, spit big words but I can't spell 'em Put a shot to your melon, that'll keep you're punk ass from chillin' Then I got that nine and a fo'-fo', that H2 is never full Bullet proof windows and doors, gangsta how 'bout yours Southside tatted on my back My last gun shipment got the whole hood strapped Now all I got is two 380's and a nine Nigga you can knock and tell the cops but you're dyin' (Chorus - repeat 2X) You're thicker than water Ouch! twizzy wizzy wa You're thicker than water Ouch! twizzy wizzy wa You're thicker than water Ouch! twizzy wizzy wa You can be a Blood or a Crip Nigga, bitch Follow Me (Tony Yayo) I used to chill in the hood, to support the fiends But now I'm eatin' caviar instead of pork and beans I'm in the money green 7-45, with 7 shots in the fo' five Y'all niggas wanna die? I got a love affair, wit' violence and guns So this is for them gangstas, rep' where you from When I got O'd up, my heart turned colder That's why the mac react like a king cobra Now I'm jumpin' out of Rovers, in Gucci loafers Y'all niggas wanna stun? I'll bury you cockroaches Gimme one year, in this industry I'll buy enough guns to declare war on a small country (Chorus) (Lloyd Banks) Still walk around wit' the hammer boss Rope and a cross Hard times'll make a lil' nigga hate Santa Claus Your mountains is high, holdin' in Diana Ross I'm like a 2003 banana Porsche I don't gotta hide sluts, to get your ties cut They on my dick, 'cause I make groupies set off a fire truck My team in the cutt, packin' middle things I got more foreign shooters than the Sacramento Kings It's 8 class karats in the border I poke holes in plastic, to avoid a vaginal disorder I'm a savage on your daughter She ain't in the college dorm Then I guess I'm squirtin' on the cabin that you bought her I'm a heavy weed smoker, so the average is a quarter Brown colored from shit, he established in the water You got Banks on your jersey, you part of my fan base Just 'cause you pour syrup on shit, don't make it pancakes (Chorus) |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
[50 Cent]
Yeah! 50 Cent.. Lloyd Banks.. Young Buck... G G G G G-Unit! Haha! [Young Buc] Vacate your home I come to break your bones Americas nightmare we at it again A desert eagle and a black mack 10 And never know what happened When we come through them cowards dont want none They screamin’ that they murderer’s but walkin' with no guns Come here nigga don’t wanna die where your standin' See im holdin' on this cannon and your life I'm demandin' Put the pipe to your melon and your brains on the pavement These niggaz is talkin' thinkin security gunna save ‘em Nobody gon’ speak when homicide pay a visit Look you right in the eyes and tell ya "we don't know who did it" Corrupted by street corner by shootin' at the police The fiends up all night and the neighbors gettin' no sleep You betta get used to it you know how we do it Shady Aftermath Interscope and G-Unit. [Chorus] We got action where you don't Show up places where you won't G-Unit, [50 Cent] G-G-G-G, G-Unit [50 Cent] Now I told ya'll on my first Dre joint I am Loco Betta than so so the games in the choke hold Diss me is a nono I perfected the slow flow In D.C. they dance the gogo In L.A.they ride on lolo's G-Unit in the house, oh no You ain't ready it's heavy 65 chevy Old school rollin' im holdin' 20 inches spinnin' from the beginnin' we winnin' Gain's his masculinity pimpin' we not pretendin' Drop top glock cocked ready for the drama Pistol's pop cop shot i'm heavy with them llama's Non-stop make it hot we on top regardless You could be the hardest We'll just be the smartest I warn you not to start us We're not your average artist's My bitch is like a goddess When paparazzi spot us Cause flick after flick same ol' shit that I kick, haha! [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] Guess who's back mothafucker gun in the clip Ready to smack up on these suckas that's runnin' they lip You can try any one of my shoes on none of ‘em fit Your hundreds are shorter I'll tell your pops his son is a daughter All I need is some cigars and quarter a couple cars and a lawyer Condom packin' a bitch and I'll be back with a hit I'm that sick, Who the hell you thought it was I got expensive habits I can't afford it cuz G-Unit is poppin' and we performin' all the clubs Niggas be shovin' and pushin' as someone is gooshin' surpise She's givin' up the buns on her cushion Sweatin' and screamin' suckin' me off the rest of the evenin' And i'm leavin', on to the next city Stashbox in the bus so I can bring the techs with me I gotta go cause i'm gettin' older you niggas ain't gettin over G-U-NIT [Chorus] |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
[Chorus] (50 Cent)
Every hood we go through All the gangstas around know my whole crew We hold it down like we supposed to Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin’ them thangs Every hood we go through All the gangstas around know my whole crew We hold it down like we supposed to Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin’ them thangs [Verse 1] (50 Cent) After the VMAs my baby momma cuss my ass out. I kicked her ass we back friends like Puffy and Steve Stout Cut the grass around my clique so I could see these sneaks You see back in the hood it’s cuz I see they fake I preach a sermon about the paper like I’m cut flow a dollar I’ll pop you punk niggaz like I pop my collar I’m confused, I like Megan, Monica, and Mya Missy’s freaky and Brandy’s shy, uh Now take a look at how my lifestyle changed up I’m on now, god damn it I done came up Now you could find me with the finest hoes Choosin’ which whip to drive by what match my clothes I got a fetish for the stones, heavy on the ice man If I ain’t gotta pistol on me, sure I gotta knife man Get outta line and I’m lightin’ your ass up Semi-automatic spray, I’ll tighten your ass up [Chorus] (50 Cent) Every hood we go through All the gangstas around know my whole crew We hold it down like we supposed to Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin’ them thangs Every hood we go through All the gangstas around know my whole crew We hold it down like we supposed to Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin’ them thangs [Verse 2] (Lloyd Banks) Slow down little nigga Don’t exceed your speed Cuz I will put g's on they fitted like the Negro league I got connects so I don’t need no weed I’ve been in LA for a year now So I don’t see no seeds After I’m done you clappin’ the crew Hell yeah, I fuck fans Guess what your favorite rapper does too In a minute I’ma have the Jew to makin’ my rims spin My crew run wild at the Jamaica’s at Kingston Nothin’ but bling bling in ya face boy That’s why my knicks shine like one of them shirts Puffy and Mase wore I done find a nympho as soon as I pop a bra She had my balls head first just like a soccer star You can only stand next to the man if you proper Ya'll take care of birds like a animal doctor Been out and I’m buzzin’ niggas just slept on me So I’m out for revenge like one of bin laden's cousins [Chorus] (50 Cent) Every hood we go through All the gangstas around know my whole crew We hold it down like we supposed to Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin’ them thangs Every hood we go through All the gangstas around know my whole crew We hold it down like we supposed to Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin’ them thangs [Verse 2] (Young Buck) Read the paper, look at the news We one the front page Yeah we in the Bahamas with AK's on the stage The ice and the Jacob watch make a broke nigga take somethin’ So I gotta keep the four fifth with no safety button G-Unit getting’ money I know some artists is starvin’ But play the game like they rich to me this shit funny I know you see me comin’ Cuz on the front of the Maybach It say payback for those who hated on me I hate when niggas claim they bangin’ a gang You ain't no crip like snoop You ain't no blood like gang See I’ve been having beef I have my own bullet proof vest Most of my enemies dead I got about two left Until my last breath I’m sendin’ niggas bullet holes Innocent bystanders get hit tryin’ to be heroes You know how we roll Every where that we go It’s fo’ fos’, calicos, and desert eagles [Chorus] (50 Cent) Every hood we go through All the gangstas around know my whole crew We hold it down like we supposed to Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin’ them thangs Every hood we go through All the gangstas around know my whole crew We hold it down like we supposed to Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin’ them t" |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
[Chorus: 50 Cent]
My buddy, my buddy Wherever I go, he go My buddy, my buddy Can run for your life on the stick up out the window My buddy, my buddy I lay your ass out mothafucka is simple Stay in your place I recommend or say hello to my litte friend [Lloyd Banks] Everywhere I go I gotta tag along Cause my buzz gettin' strong And they mad I'm on They ride with me when I'm past the mall Don't wait for me on the bench when I'm playin' a game of basketball One sqeeze will make a bastard fall Gasp and crall You need a bulletproof vest mask and all Bring your buddy when it's time to roam (why?) Cause I got hit the last time I left mine at home My hand bling full of platinum the shine is chrome He even got closet space inside of my home He ain't never been broke he glitchless So reliable I bought him a rubber coat for Christmas Infared beam in the scope for distance The best company wouldn't proach in business He who ride with me to the end We all gotta friend And mine is a G-U-N. [Chorus: 50 Cent] My buddy gotta temper he dyin' to pop off Like Tommy did the cops had the block all locked off Take them with me to hustle stashed him in the trash can My finger tips sore for four hours I backround She meet him his destination hell or heaven Cause I only bring em out for that 187 He dont have a heart I just keep feeding him shells He get it poppin' in the hood so his name ring bell Ms. Jones stay on the third floor she call the cops on me They came I ran I had to toss my othrt little homie Niggas they all got new friends so they stay in there place kid I stay screamin' on niggaz and beatin' up base heads These niggaz sayin' doley just like they pretend Keep fuckin' around they gon say hello to my little friend. [Chorus: 50 Cent] [Young Buc] We been through it all yet we both still livin' We been in a box but we both still spittin' And when there was beef you even played your position Got under the seat until we spotted our victim At first they wouldn't listen to they heard you go off Remember it was broad daylight in the middle of New York And little did they know we was ready for war Bet that nigga wished he'd never stuck his head out the door See whenever you come out something happen on the block You the reason that nigga done stop rappin' like Pac People see you ain't run and you even say shit They just know you ain't nothin' to play wit Stay wit 16 homies and one in the hole When the first one get out the next one go To know where your headed you gotta know where you been The glock stay with me we friends till the end. [Chorus: 50 Cent] |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
(50 Cent)
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah Little Tyrone tired of gettin' his ass whipped so he holdin' that gat down His momma think it's my fault cause he listen to "back down" Bobby was a fucking bum he pumpin' now He keeps her fresh chicks white T's and fitted hats now Uncle Rock-a-whiner we wont put the yack down Eric had a jump shop but he's smoking crack now The Lunatics the Lost Boys cheap shit is wack now Country boots shrowden crackers got him on his back now And Sean runnin' round with his gat now Up in niggaz cribs sayin' where that money at pound And Saundra from BK I seen her out in Houston That bitch travel the world she runnin' round boostin' And Toya got these bad ass kids they a nusince Their baby daddy's never come around they useless Everynow and then I come through on some new shit Pearly white six and some chrome deuce deuce. (Chorus: 50 Cent) I'm so hood, I can't help it I'm so hood, I can't help it Love me for being me Cause I can't change it - can't rearrange it - I am what I am. So love me for being me. I'm so hood, I can't help it I'm so hood, I can't help it Love me for being me Cause I can't change it - can't rearrange it - I am what I am. So love me for being me. (50 Cent) Now Im'a six man momma told me god don't like ugly I fell scraped my face and thought god must don't love me So Owen every morning before school he sell dope Niggaz keep whoopin' that ass cause he sell soap. Charlie be beggin' all the time he stay broke Flip be down on 109 rollin' up smoke Chamie he a thief catch a stunt in a stolen car He that nigga that you call when you crash and need new parts They say they love me because I rap now but they don't like me I've been locked up 3 times and they ain't write me Stevey a pump fucker with Shanqua get mean quick Pop shots at you he sure must suck a mean dick The blocks hot D's jump out on us almost all the time They watch us from the building but niggaz still be on the grime Wade used to call the cops and tell them G had a nine Til G put that gun in down that seat and said it wasn't mine (Chorus: 50 Cent) |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
[Chorus]
[50 Cent] I'll teach you how to stunt My wrists stay rocked up My TV's pop up in a Maybach benz I'll teach you how to stunt Nigga you can't see me My bently GT got smoke-gray tints I'll teach you how to stunt My neck stay blinging, my rims stay gleaming, I'm shining man I'll teach you how to stunt I see you scheming, nigga keep on dreaming, I hurt ya mans I'll teach you how to stunt [50 Cent] Seven series BM, Six series benz Twenty-four inches, Giovanni rims All on one wheel when I'm on one of them Ma, that boy out there actin a fool that's him They say I've changed man, I'm getting paper, I'm flashy They like me better when I'm fucked up and ashy My royalty check's the rebirth of Liberace Stunt so hard, everybody got to watch me And I don't really care if it's platinum or white gold As long as the VS bling, look at that light show In the hood they say Fifty man your sneaker look white yo Just can't believe Reebok did a deal with a psycho Banks is a sure thing, yall niggaz might blow I'm fittin to drop that, so I suggest you lay low Buc, he from Cashville, Tenneckee nigga Getting them ten of keys, save ten for me nigga [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] I'm sensing a lot of tension now that I'm rappin But the kids used to look up to you, what happened? Me on the contrary, hand covered with platinum Different color coupes but I'm in love with the black one On point, cuz you get R.I.P.'s when slacking So the stashbox big enough to squeeze the mack in Yeah, I'm fairly new but I demand some respect Cuz I already wear your advance on my neck I'm fresh off the jet, then I breeze to the beaches Blue yankee fitted, G-Unit sneakers I already figured out what to do with all my features Decorate the basement, full of street sweepers When it comes to stuntin' theres nothing you can teach us We're in a different time zone, your records don't reach us Naww, I ain't here to save the world, just roll up a blunt Come with me out front, I'LL TEACH YOU HOW TO STUNT [Chorus] [Young Buc] Chain so icy, you don't have to like me In a throwback jersey, with the throwback nikes I know you probably seen me with Cash Money from back in the days The only thing changed is the numbers on the range I bought me an old school and blew out the brains The Roc the Mic tour, I threw off my chain My sprewell's spinning man, I'm doing my thing And whodi now in trouble now that you in the game Come on now, we all know gold is getting old The ice in my teeth keep the crystal cold G-Unit homie, actin' like yall don't know Look, I can't even walk through the mall no more I just pull up, get out, and get all the hoes They never seen doors lift up on a car before Don't be mad at me dog, that's all I know That's how to show these fougaisies how it's supposed to go [Chorus] |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
[Chorus]
I wanna get to know you I really wanna fuck you, baby I'm lost in your lovin' I'm simply going to drive you , crazy I wanna be your lover I wanna get to know you, baby I'm lost in your lovin' I'm simply going to drive you , crazy [Young Buc] Im lovin' how you look in my eyes Swingin' them hips when you pass I'm visualizing my name tatooed on that ass baby Jump on this Harley Lets go smoke some of that Bob Marley Sip some Bacardi Then go pull up at the afterparty I think we make a perfect couple But you think I'm trouble Maybe thats the reason you gave me the wrong number She got me feeling like "maybe she the wrong woman" Think im'a be chasin' the chicken head you own somethin' Your toes painted half fixed all the time And your Gucci boots the same color as mine If you read between the lines you can see that I want you I betcha I have you doin' what you said that you won't do Making decisions shorty good things don't last long Your girlfriend keep showin' me that thong Before I head home Im'a stop at your house and blow the horn If you come outside you know it's on [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] Bitches be frustrated with the baller Wonder why I call her Maybe because I'm busy and she needs someone to spall her Hiccups annoy ya from time to time I gotta ignore her In order to let her know we'll be friends and nothing more She loves it when I'm in town Hate it when I'm not around I get her and wear down Next door neighboors hear the sound Pictures hittin' the ground Just enough to hold us down I'm stickin' n' moving cruising after the third round Just lay back baby and let me drive you crazy I can make a 40 year old feel like a young lady I admit I fell in love with her frame And to make her feel special I let her call me by my government name Her panties wet over fame Fall in love with my chain I wonder if I wasn't an entertainer would she remain Surrounding me hounding me trying to be my only I'm not your boyfriend I'm your homie. [Chorus] [50 Cent] (Yeah) What would fuck me up more Watching her lick her lips Or watching her walk she hypnotize me with her hips (yeah) man I sweet talk her if she like Cause all she really want is a nigga to treat her right right Look I'm legit now used to break laws Now you can reap the benefits of world tours Big house big Benz girl it yours Mink coats Italian shoes stones with no flaws You ain't go to look like a model for me to adore you All you gotta do is love me and be loyal Don't indulge in my past fuck what happened before you Cause their be some honies gonna hate you that never saw you Come here let my touch on you I let you touch on me Put my tounge on you you put your tounge on me Let me ride on you and you can ride on We can do it all the night We can have a balla night [Chorus] I wanna get to know you I really wanna fuck you, baby I'm lost in your lovin' I'm simply going to drive you , crazy I wanna be your lover I wanna get to know you, baby I'm lost in your lovin' I'm simply going to drive you , crazy I wanna be your lover I really need to stand you, baby I wannt be your lover I really need to stand you, baby, baby, baby, baby. |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
(50 Cent)
Yeah, G-Unit, Haha. I've been so many places I've seen so many faces Girl you look like someone that I done fucked before I've been around the world I've met all kinds of girls Girl you look like someone I done fucked on tour (Uh huh) (Getting paper things change) I'm rich bitch (You done heard of my name) 50 Cent bitch (I'm a P.I.M.P.) I'm a pimp bitch (You done heard of me) Cause I'm the shit ???? At first they didn't want they want me See a nigga gettin' paid they want push 'n pull me You see these ho's chasin' a nigga I have them in the hotel chasin a nigga 50 like a lolipop lick me baby Then lick Dr. Dre and Shady Oh! (Chorus) Groupie love, Gimme gimme gimme that groupie love Gimme gimme gimme that groupie love When you see me in V.I.P. When ho's around me Man they give me that groupie love Come gimmie gimmie gimmie that groupie love Come gimmie gimmie gimmie that groupie love Tonight you wanna fuck wit me It's alright wit me Come on and give me that groupie love. (Tono Yayo) Sometimes I rhyme slow sometimes I rhyme quick Thats the reason these groupies is on my dick Listen young and old these ho's is loose Wintertime the staircase summertimes the roof Give me eight days in the eighth homie I'm straight Have a church girl on the bus moving weight I got birds backstage thats serious eye candy I've got birds in the hood so I'm into birds with bambi My writing methods got me more ho's than Tyson Meth The icy necklace on the tour butt ass naked When I say jump bitch say how high And flag down a car when the shit drive by I'm a pimp like pretty tone I got the info on pretty chrome Fuckin' ho's off fiddy's phone My name more weight you barley known You on that R Kelly shit your bitch is barley grown (Yeah!) (Chorus) (50 Cent) G-G-G-G-G-G-G-G-G G-UNIT! (Lloyd Banks) Shorty ain't feeling me Shorty must like girls (like girls) Cause I'm all the man in your world Bitch I can make you famous You don't know what your missing I can change your mind if you listen If the bitch don't like me the bitch must not like men I say what I want because I can If I didn't I'd be a liar Remind me I'm on fire Come ride with a rider I travel so you might catch the king with a singer But touching my door bell is the only way I put a ring on your finger Give me a car rolling two cups and I'm in bedroom Fucking up your seats like the Coo Clucks Clan I shook hands with my fans to fuck em' And I'm always tryin' to duck em' So I can climb into somethin' My name is B-A-N-K-S dollar sign bitch I'm a bentley to make that switch Come and give me that. (Chorus) (tony yayo) Groupie love, I love that shit Hoooooooooooooo Groupies come and groupies go And they always at a show So I always grab me the tightest one And proceed to the slraight to the mall She so much tighter that she's here with me That she feel's she should pay a fee I did not disagree so she dropped down to her knees Groupie love, yeah. Uh huh, groupie love, yeah. Uh huh, groupie love, yeah. |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
[50 Cent]
I, know, you, know I'm, on, fiiiii-re [Chorus: 50 Cent] If, you don't know, who I be You betta ask somebooooody about me Oh - you wanna be tough nigga, a look is enough I put that snub nose to ya and bust nigga If, you don't know, who I be You betta ask somebooooody about me And they'll tell ya I'm a soldier boy And I done told ya, over and over boy [Verse One: Lloyd Banks] I come from a big city, the streets corrupt Now I'm rollin with snub-noses to heat you up Out here niggaz'll do anything to reach a buck Cause when you broke you can't afford to fuck ya sneakers up I take my time, keep my mind on my bank funds Learn how to seperate the real from the fake ones And on my heater nina rep what could I carry on My nigga just lost his momma, and his daddy gone From now on I can provide cause my paper's straight Family losin his legs, but I can take the weight Some niggaz hate but I'll be damned if they hold me down Front niggaz didn't know me then, bet they know me now Blunt and a smile, eventually it'll be a frown Cause every time I turn around a nigga locked down While I'm in the world, tryin to bring my loot through Hopin one day we can kick it like we used to, my nigga [Chorus] [Verse Two: Young Buck] Uhh, they never seen 26's on Hummer My goal is to try to fuck Trina by the summer Some niggaz hate me, but they only made me Go and put mo' ice in my mouth than Baby (bling bling!) G-Unit and Shady, them dudes is crazy Next time, we only usin Dr. Dre's beats Fuck you, pay me, take your magazine flicks This ain't no Nelly hurr, take a good look at this Got the wrists of a chemist and the heart of a hustler Plus I probably done robbed mo' artists than Russell Always in trouble, you can blame my mother Gave birth to a gorilla and raised him in the jungle I ain't crawled, I stumbled across the Mexican with birds Papi had coke and new plates and pounds of herb Keep my hand on my glock, and my ear to the streets I'm a country boi, you can hear it when I speak G-Unit! [Chorus] [Verse Three: 50 Cent] Bentley is all dreams, G-5 is understood I made a nigga heart colder than December (yeah!) Don't take much to make my gun go off One shot'll make a hardrock look oh so soft (woo!) If you don't know you betta ask who I be Or end up in ICU gettin fed through a IV Down in the Lou', they say they feelin me derrty In New Orleans they say I'm that nigga, ya heard me? From them Southside blocks to Watts, Westside don't front You know about them Grapestreet Gangstas, G'd up Rollin that weed up Nigga get outta line, get shot stabbed jacked Hit with a bat or beat up Fuck that, we're on that same bullshit Same forty-cally glock, same full clip Pussy claat bwoy, ya nah wanna tak wif me I'm a real rudebwoy, ya nah wanna ruf wif me [Chorus] |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
"Walk with meeeee..."
(Young Buck) Ay if you hear me out there "Walk with meeeee..." (Young Buck) I get down on my knees every night and say "Walk with meeeee..." (Young Buck) Hahahaha, yeah "Walk with meeeee..." (Young Buck) I'm goin to war, I'm goin to WAR! (Verse One: Young Buck) You never know when death's comin, all you hear is gunshots Lil' kids get to runnin, old ladies get off the block When the poppin the truck music comes to a stop Niggaz get on the floor with they front doors locked Syringes and sirens the only thing on the street People act like they don't know who did it, but they notice me Every day's a death threat, but I ain't dead yet So I go put a hole in a nigga from the next set Don't know where I slept at, just know where my tec at It's the first of the month, my bitch ain't got her check yet Juvie left me in California, I don't respect that I love him too much to beef, so I'ma accept that But I'ma just step back, and focus on Buck Tired of ridin in yours, I'm bout to buy my own truck Got to try my own luck, "Get Rich or Die Tryin'" It's G-Unit 'til I'm gone, Lord knows I ain't lyin niggaz (Chorus: 50 Cent - repeat 2X) First there was two sets of footprints in the sand Then there was one set of footprints in the sand When times get hard and shit hits the fan God don't walk with me, he carry me man (Verse Two: Young Buck) You don't know what I been through to get what I done got If you looked through a scope, you couldn't hit what I done shot Couldn't flip what I done copped, couldn't tip what I done topped I murder you all-talk like a clip without a glock When you holla G-Unit on some other shit You need to do the research, and see who you fuckin wit I smoke all your weed up, go run up your Beeza Your baby momma want me, I don't want that skeeza She's scratched my Beema, but I ain't seen-her When I catch the bitch, I'ma gangsta lean-her - WHOA We be playin in them videos, with them pretty hoes Cash bucks and the key bitches and New York City hoes They learned it from Lil' Kim to let they titties show I'm the King of the South, this is how it really goes Lord knows, I keep all my jewels froze As long as the check come, then FUCK the award shows You know me nigga (Chorus) (Verse Three: Young Buck) Half of these kids never read the Bibles But they can tell you how to kill a man better than I do The reason they fucked up, they all been lied to I know what it feels like when a nigga misguide you My momma stay in the projects and I been havin money I went bought her a house, but she told me she ain't want it (What?) Right then I understood that the hood's in my blood So I hollered CASH REAL, lettin 'em know where I'm from Niggaz know I got a gun when I come to the club And if it go down, you better tell your people to duck Why should I slow down, I just got started targettin artists Wait 'til the bullets start hoppin out the cartridge I come to get it poppin, pray to God the news watchin So when they see 'em snitch niggaz'll know who got 'em We came from the bottom to the top, from hoopties to a drop And kill or be killed is the attitude I got nigga (Chorus) (Young Buck) I know you prayin I get killed nigga He who fears death is in denial 50 told you niggaz, Young Buck showed you niggaz Banks! FREE YAYO! And tell the bitch ass niggaz put they vest on I'M HERE NOW! |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
(Chorus)
Nigga you shit on me , I shit on you You put a hit on me, I put a hit on you A eye for an eye nigga Survive the shots or die nigga (get 'em Banks) (Lloyd Banks) You can't hold me i'm Lloyd Banks the one and only not your buddy, not your pal, not your homie there ain't a government around that can control me, ohhh no I'm on that doggy style shit, man i don't love a hoe papa wasn't around so i had to let my brother know, never stay in center, play the back and let your money grow, most them niggas wouldn't be around if you was bummy yo, south side jamaica neighbour yeah thats where i come from, if you see a nigga with me then it's more than one gun, five straight soldier ain't that tired of being the dumb one, or even satisfied being another niggas dun-dun, we all know friendships turn sour when you gettin it, some niggas hate me in the hood but i don't owe them niggas shit, smiling all up in my face like i don't know them niggas sick, but i can care less, i'm on the album and i'm gettin' rich. (Chorus) Nigga you shit on me , I shit on you You put a hit on me, I put a hit on you A eye for an eye nigga Survive the shots or die nigga (Young Buck) Walkin' and talkin' spit it how i live it nigga, Came from the country, dirty south get it nigga, Feds tryin to question me, they run up in my hotel, 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 the block, I can feel your pain nigga, I'm still in the game nigga, There 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' ya hear some shots go off, And niggas get there chains snatched when they try and show off, Shoot outs in broad day we do it the mob way, And come to find out this niggas softer than shawty, I'mma keep livin my life with a pistol in my palm and a wrist full of ice, you can call me the don. We want tha eye 'n' son make one wrong move and your dyyyyin', ain't no time for coppin' heat nigga ya cryyyying, cause my niggas ain't goin'stop riiidin', so you gone (chorus) Nigga you shit on me , I shit on you You put a hit on me, Iput a hit on you A eye for an eye nigga Survive the shots or die nigga (50) I got a hand gun habit, nigga front i'll let ya have it, When the shots go off cops sayin 50 back at it, I'm alergic to the feathers on these bird ass niggas, Front and i'll put ya brains on that curb fast nigga, I ain't a marksman my spark and i'll spray shit, Enough rounds for the Hk i don't play bitch, Move like i'm militant back on that gorilla shit, Moody, disrespectful, i'm ruley but niggas can't move me, I squeeze till i run outta ammo, if it's a problem it's handled, I'll have your people pourin' out liquor and lightin' candles, You fuck around i'll 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 it's crime scene tape then you end up in that black herse, We don't go to funerals but we'll go to your wake fam, View your body all banged up, you made a mistake man. (Chorus X2) Nigga you shit on me , I shit on you You put a hit on me, I put a hit on you A eye for an eye nigga Survive the shots or die nigga |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
[50 Cent]
Yeah, this somethin special y'know, somethin epic Lloyd Banks, you know Cause a nigga thuggin don't mean he don't ..Wanna see you smile baby ... Wooo! I wanna be the reason you smile I wanna be the reason you smi-ile I wanna be the reason you smile After you wipe away your tears and dry your eyes [Lloyd Banks] I'm gettin the feelin you wanna take revenge From the conversations we have and the way it ends You wanna discuss me in front of your lady friends That's why it's just me and my Mercedes Benz It all depends, maybe if we make amends We can start from scratch Learn to control your temper and remarks in fact We plan to be platonic but the hearts in tact So everytime we seperate, somebody's marchin back You're amazing in the sack Eyes slanted like you're Asian, but you're black God Bless whoever gave you all of that If you seen her from the back You'd understand why dis feel like that And ain't a flaw to her toes, the Lord knows Her pussy good enough to miss award shows And I ain't gotta say nothin, she just knows By the way I look at her to take off all her clothes Up and down [Chorus: Lloyd Banks + (50 Cent)] Whenever I'm not around , and you feelin down Let the thought of me be (be the reason you smile) I don't wanna see you frown, like them kids watch a clown I wanna bring you joy and be (be the reason you smile) Baby, you know my style, you know how I get down I provide by any means to be (be the reason you smile) We done been through ups and downs, had drama for a while I'm just happy I'm around to be (the reason you smile) [Lloyd Banks] The main reason I been lookin at you pitiful What about the half of this shit I done did to you Violated and tip toed into a crib or two I've come clean to be a bigger individual Even though you're busy boo, the evening's when I visit you Kinda makes me feel lucky, cause I see niggaz when you tease 'em with your physical She wanna rack up her brooms, I ain't got no more room left Wild drama, section 8 princess My foreign chick bad, but she been stressed Cause it's hard to communicate Cause she don't speak no ingles I been around the world from state to state But now I'm back bustin in your bathroom Got you laughin in your shower cap, let's get it on Cause I'm leavin in a hour flat, really dont matter, shes mad Even when I holla back All I really need your attention for a while And, I bet you I can make you smile [Chorus - 2X] |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
(50 Cent)
Ahhhhhh! G-Unit! (Intro/Chorus - 50 Cent) Baby you got, you got, you got, you got what I want Baby you got, you got, you got, you got what I need Now shake that thang Shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it up Girl shake that thang Shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it up (Chorus - 50 Cent) Baby you got Hips that hypnotize When you walk I can't help but watch you shake I love the way you shake (Baby you got) Hips that make a nigga fantasize I could spend a day lost in your eyes (Baby you got) Some kinda control on me Feels like you got a hold on me (Baby you got) My imagination running wild Infatuated with your physical, damn, I like your style (Verse 1 - 50 Cent) It's something about your style, it's something about your smile It's something about you making me want you right now If you don't like me, then don't listen to me Lord knows I spit that G that have you coming out your clothes I'm a professional when I become sexual You need a chaperone to bring your girlfriend next to you Don't it sound like phone sex, kinky, when I talk switch the slang Partner, tell that nigga from New York, shorty Come ride on my roller coaster Porn star stamina, I try not to damage ya Unlimited tongue action 'til you're climaxin' Foreplay, you can have it your way I follow directions, whoa, your jiggling baby Back shots have your whole back wiggling crazy After sipping on Nightrain, that potent pipe game I have you saying "slow down baby" (Chorus) (Verse 2 - Young Buck) Baby it's hard to look and don't touch Girl the way you strut dressed in your Von Dutch I don't know if it's your lips or your hips that got me Or the way that ass bounce when you move your body I'm parked outside in the blue Denali There's room for two, just me and you, if you 'bout it Ice from Tiffany & Co., Norma Kamali footwear I spend g's, I'm a G, that's a good look girl You need a thug that can handle that One dose'll make you go and put my name on your back Whenever you pass through, whatever they ask you Just tell em you my boo, and show em your tattoo, ooohh Don't hurt nobody baby When you drop to the ground and drive me crazy I done been around the world, and I finally found ya Now back that ass up and let me get behind ya (ahhh!) (Chorus) (Verse 3 - Lloyd Banks) Baby you've got a hell of a first impression Making me wanna ask you a personal question Like "Are you flexible?" and "How do you like it?" Give me a little input, I'm not a psychic Cuz you can exit as soon as you get the ok You got a body like Nicole ray, hey I need a drink, I'll be right back But before I go, do that little dance, yeah, just like that It's late, I have to score, "This blue drink tastes good, don't it?" "Sure it does, now have some more" I'm deep, but she got her ladies wit her So bring em, I'll call ya a babysitter So we can hit the hotel, motel, Holiday Inn I'm contemplatin' how my time's spent Cuz I'm bent, and I'm as hard as a brick, love You move like you work in a strip club (Chorus) |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
General, I salute you
I'll put a hole in any nigga tryna shoot you It ain't nothing 'cause loyalty is what I'm used to And what I won't do, I'll have one of my troops do Nigga we'll kill you I'm ready for combat, a solider on the frontline Take me to the streets, nigga mothafuck a punchline It only take one time, for you to send a death threat And watch these bullets have that ass singing like Keith Sweat You ain't met me yet I been camoflauged in the bushes And I'm co-signing Fifty, 'cause them niggas all pussies Bustin' shots at ya convoy You don't want war No surrender, no retreat this is Vietnam boy Check my war wounds, I done took a couple for the team Only niggas that been on the battlefield know what I mean Take cover we coming, pulling pins outta grenades You won't make it to the general, without getting sprayed Might as well say "Hello" to my brand new little friend Only time he come out, to put holes in grown men You continue troops and get 'em all blowed back Walk up on 'em with a deuce-deuce and nigga all that, what! General, I salute you I'll put a hole in any nigga tryna shoot you It ain't nothing 'cause loyalty is what I'm used to And what I won't do, I'll have one of my troops do Nigga we'll kill you General, I salute you I'll put a hole in any nigga tryna shoot you It ain't nothing 'cause loyalty is what I'm used to And what I won't do, I'll have one of my troops do Nigga we'll kill you Look nigga, I suggest you go home 'Cause I won't hesitate to let the chrome touch ya Nigga I'm never scared like Bone Crusher Stand alone, provide my own supper Tell ya baby mama stop coming around here or I'm gon' fuck her Don't tryta pick up for them lames around you You get shots for free, like I fragant fouled you I'm on the road blowing grade A haze and brown Got niggas running like the KKK's around My album's coming, a new year's approaching My buzz getting bigger, my few ears is open Can ya team play in the game without you their to coach 'em There's a very fine line between a pool and the ocean Sometimes I'm in Atlanta where they make head bounce And you can come, but after you give Banks head, bounce These niggas really want war, 'cause if so Get on your vest, 'cause all you gotta do is say that General, I salute you I'll put a hole in any nigga tryna shoot you It ain't nothing 'cause loyalty is what I'm used to And what I won't do, I'll have one of my troops do Nigga we'll kill you General, I salute you I'll put a hole in any nigga tryna shoot you It ain't nothing 'cause loyalty is what I'm used to And what I won't do, I'll have one of my troops do Nigga we'll kill you |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
G G G, G G G-Unit
No peace talks, no white flags No mercy, I'm gettin yo ass [50 Cent] Niggas done heard about my click how we stay wit the toastas Blood in, blood out, la kostra nostra You don't wanna bang wit the best I'll have Doc removin fragments from your chest They say God's a forgivin' man, I hope he forgive Thirty shells I let off don't curse my kid They say Fifty done blew up, Fifty you changed Nigga you stunt, I pull out And you see I'm that same nigga that when he start to roar I think he's flyin Eight outta eight on movin targets You run? You still dyin Check my resume, I am oh so loco Mama ain't raise no chump, I don't talk no pocco [Chorus - 50 cent] Sticks and stones may break bones and the shells may hurt me But I take it like a man, you beg for mercy Keep your eyes wide open, nigga's lookin for it too Shit is real 'round here, you surrounded by crooks Sticks and stones may break bones and the shells may hurt me But I take it like a man, you beg for mercy Keep your eyes wide open, nigga's lookin for it too Shit is real 'round here, you surrounded by crooks [young buck] There once was some niggas that tried to murda me I hit em up, put em in plastic surgery This 4-5 has made a lot of guys apologize The truth come out, 'stead of hearin' a lot of lies Some niggas catch a case and then claim they hard A couple chest wounds0will make a nigga change his heart I just play my part, and while you shootin up cars I'm smokin' niggas like a Cuban cigar Let's get it poppin' [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] I'm tired of you niggas with your maybe beef We gonna be here forever, you're temporary like baby teeth I'm in and out the night clubs, A-D-D Dark blue Benz, navy seats, eighty sneaks These niggas tellin' out the blue So you hang em off the bridge At least they'll have to helicopter you The Jimmy lived in the bags, the Bell or Hop will do I rap for the neighborhood niggas that failed in high school You can tell I came a long way in my sense, home grown That's why them little niggas in the projects love me You provide the beat downs for free, I paid my dues I don't even freestyle for free I gave em a break, flew over seas But it's kinda hard to get homie-sick when there's blue in the trees Sit back and try to play your role wit the copies I put more staples in yo ass than a telephone pole, Yea [Chorus] |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
(hook-50 cent)
(aahh, yeah, uh huh) aint it amazing how crazy the hood dun made me feels like my emotions are froze (I stay g'd up) its the thangs i dun seen and the shit i been through that make my heart turn cold (i stay g'd up) im a gangsta you'll find out fa sho if u eva step on my toes (i stay g'd up) when im hangin out that window with that ak fillin yo punk ass wit holes (i stay g'd up) (1st verse, 50 cent) cocaine, heroine,ecstacy,marijuana im new on the grey hound from NY ta the carolinas paper chase different names same face dont catch a case my roll dawgs on paroll baby girls four years old we play the block pistol cocked you either shoot or get shot can you feel yo crack spot take everything yo ass got simi-automatic spay bust back or run away niggas talkin in the hood we'll handle 'em some other day in November we make my shit that u did you can catch on christmas ill send you a gift niggas ill come and leave yo ass twisted them hollow tip shells burn baby burn I seen niggas get murked they babies born then the world turns i seen it all crystal clear so i keep my pistol near hearts never full of fear homie i stay well aware on whats goin on around me mutha fuckas want me dead i go with a smile on my face when its my time kid (hook 1x) (2nd verse, lloyd banks) Lord nigga i dun paid the way yall should thank 'em but if you think otherwise bring ya boy over here so i could spank him ill put an end to yo career bitch before you speak on 50 buy 40 and a spare clip these niggas gassed up gettin too used to rap like i wont give em more blood clots than supercat niggas'll snatch ya im like a back catcha nigga ill give ya a sign and then throw sumthin atcha 'round here niggas die off hydro and even when it aint 4th of july i sound like pyro we smart enough to creep and lay ya dumb brains down a pound will spin you around like the young james brown (yea) i know im hot but hey (hey) im icy too rocks will hit you from a block away like a beat from dr. dre we're takin over this year the kings and the soldiaz is here everyone knows that ya scared (YEA) (hook 1x) Young Buck My poppa never bothered to show me what is was to be a man he'd just pop another bottle and smoke up a half a gram i would hop in my impala and ride all through the night they gave my home boy life so when you do it do it right my fingernails still filled with cocaine residue I still got the heart to go and bust me a head or two no other solution you think we're hollin and hootin until you wake up, and then you got to hear bout the shootins I take a pull from a loose one and put the clip in my pocket before i take another bullet im gon pull it and pop it and if theres beaf my nigga then letcha guns do ya talkin the graveyard, has got plenty of room for a coffin they say that we responsible for boostin the crime rate they say that we the reason why these young niggas buyin weight but im gon keep this glock on my waist till my dyin day its nothin but a G thang, g-unit and dr. dre (hook 1x) |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
[CHORUS]
I don’t know what you been thinking Don’t know what you been drinking But you get out of line boy I’ll lay your ass down [50 CENT] I been up in LA with Dre and Snoop for so long I’m finna crip walk and put some mother fuckin khakis on Nah thats iight man I ain’t got nuttin to prove I’m rich but I still live like I got nuttin to lose Look man I don’t know what you been drinkin’ I don’t know what you been thinkin’ But you get out line and swoop hit you upside the head Media they right whatever they choose The cops stay on my ass so I stay on the news These other rap niggas couldn’t walk in my shoes Went through a bunch of bullshit while I was payin my dues They say my music make a gangster want to pop something Well tell them niggas they could pop this and stop frontin’ You heard a nigga do you know how I get down Stay with my vest on and roll with a couple of tre pounds In case you mother fuckers want to jump bad now Start some bullshit and imma lay punk ass down [YOUNG BUCK] Hating niggas from long range for writing the wrong thangs My name Young Buck but I look like an old man Just cause I like ice don’t compare me to Lil Wayne I make rap niggas disappear like lil thangs See Buck been shot but not more than 50 I don’t dance but I look like signing with Diddy I got plans, grenades, and the G-Unit with me No commands we spray, give a fuck who we hittin Bustin my hand I pay em about 160 Hollow tips, four fifth with the rupper grips Crips and Bloods they show me love like I’m claiming the set These industry niggas know they better pay me my check I get a kick outta seeing these broke ass rappers Ten people showed up that’s why your show got cancelled 50 whatever they did to kid is handled Niggas callin 4 these features but they get no answer Fuck yall niggaz! [LLOYD BANKS] Bitches know it’s a privilege If I stop to check her Niggas all I got is hot shit the kids call me Dr Pepper And I don’t mean the soda The sixteen top shot loada I’ll bend ya ass up like yoga You fuckin with a soulja Selling tickets for a first class trip to a hospital folda So please keep talking so we could spread your feet Have you on your boulevard C walking The birds keep hawking Why? Cause im hurtin every CD I’m walking from DC to Boston I laugh at a snotty chick bitch I don’t argue I’ll leave a print on your ass Imma karate kid The niggas that I be with got guns On the big body tip and if they pull out You guarding and shit You got me in a heavy gray picture Plus I light up trees like everyday is Christmas |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
(50 Cent - Talking)
Yeah, niggas talking all that gangsta shit Acting like my money ain't no good in the hood, you know what I mean? Fucking head blown off nigga, you know? (Chorus 50 Cent x2) They, they talking that That gangsta shit They ain't about that Man, matter of fact Hand me my strap Show me where they at I'll stop 'em from talking like that (50 Cent) I'm the talk to hit every barbershop and beauty salon Cause these other niggas that rap ain't on the shit that I'm on Cause 50 this, 50 that, 50 stay with a gat Thirty-two shots in the clip, hollow tips in the Mack But when I come through, shh... the talking stop My money long now, I can make the Pope get shot Now, we can blow an hour talking bout the stones I rock All the hoes I got, cause he stunts in the drop Now, naw, you love the kids, 50 on that killa shit That been mobbed the bad man, bitchy as guerilla shit I'm marking my music like diesel on the block So if you with me you gon' eat and you gon' starve if you not Weed smokers love me like they love Buddha I'll send your kids through the shooter, Crip niggas love me like they love Hoova They tell me see careful good, cause niggas wanna see like you They ain't used to a G like you, BLAM! (Chorus 50 Cent) They, they talking that That gangsta shit They ain't about that Man, matter of fact Hand me my strap Show me where they at I'll stop 'em from talking like that (Young Buck) You think you a killer but we gon just pay 'em a visit Put the potato in the barrel so nobody hear it I keep a holster on my shoulder like I'm John Wayne Shooting these niggas lights out like Lebron James Holla my name, gimme a reason to see you bleeding After you feel these hollow tips, nigga, then we eating Full of anger until there's no more bullets in the chamber Ain't nothing like when you get popped and don't know who to blame-a Nigga told me, "Do your dirt all by your lonely" So I go hit them niggas 'fore 50 couldn't even hold me I'm waiting, anticipating to put a nigga under Smoking like we some Jamaicans fucking with this ganja Ride with no hesitation, retaliation is a must Bad as I want to, some shit I just don't discuss So point him out and watch how I knock him off Everywhere you bitches go, I got a nigga watching ya'll, motherfuckers! (Chorus 50 Cent) They, they talking that That gangsta shit They ain't about that Man, matter of fact Hand me my strap Show me where they at I'll stop 'em from talking like that (Lloyd Banks) Come on, nigga, I ain't here to make no friends, just cut the checks I got a long pump that'll put your stupid ass up in steps Begging niggas don't understand though Probably cause my hand glow when I'm anticipating the lambo Lean out my bucket for niggas thinking they Rambo You get one warning so I suggest you let your man know These rap niggas portray to be tough, nobody acting soft 'Til they laid out in the hospital, eating applesauce Usually for yapping off and turn apologetic Waving a white flag, the danger they might have My niggas buying so much ammo If you reach in the couch for loose change, you'll probably feel on the handle Holding sixteens to get your bandages and broke bones So I suggest you get alarm systems in both homes There's only one team on top, we number one with a glock Fuck around and get your dumb ass SHOT! (Chorus 50 Cent) They, they talking that That gangsta shit They ain't about that Man, matter of fact Hand me my strap Show me where they at I'll stop 'em from talking like that |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
(Intro)
*Sniff Sniff* You smell that? What's that? I smell pussy! (Is that you Irv?) I smell pussy! (Is that you Ja?) I smell pussy! (Is that you Black?) I smell pussy! (Is that you Tah?) (Verse One) Y'all niggas is pussy!!!!! I'm falling out nigga now watch me (watch me) Ain't nothing you can do to stop me (stop me) Y'all niggas get so emotional (emotional) You remind me of my bitch...HaHa It's not of my nature to make a commitment so let me breathe What she doesn't understand catch attitudes when I leave her Quite of probation just make it harder for me to accept her as my own She tries to tie up my phone and I'm not at home she's thinking I'm not alone Probably out tryin' to bone anything in the street I let her know she can leave I ain't tryin' to tie her up But see it's hard to fuck wit somebody after she touches me Mami I'm not your regular nigga I know the game But I don't play by the rules I'm focusing on my moves That way I will never lose See I can tell by your shoes if you attracted to Benz's with 22's You say I confuse you play little trick with your head Been catching feelings ever since the first time I slept in your bed I'm not here to tease you mislead you with so your dreams I can't say I love you I don't know what that means I'M A PIMP!!!! (Chorus (twice)) Girl you know I like when you climb on top Love muscle feel tighter than a headlock And you know I love the way you make the bed rock Take me to Ecstasy with out takin Ecstasy Girl you know I like when you climb on top Love muscle feel tighter than a headlock And you know I love the way you make the bed rock Take me to Ecstasy with out takin Ecstasy (Verse Two) When I first met her, I did anything to get her Paid all her bills and filled her frigerator Reminiscing on late nights when I tried to lay up But couldn't get off 'cause your baby would stay up She even crashed the whip tryin' to switch in the third lane That's when I realized this bitch was a bird brain A pigeon writing her baby pops in the box in prison Sing-Sing is where he been in She in the Gucci tights and Fendi high heels Baby wipes and cans of Enfamil Motor Bikes and grams of fish scale So 9 to 5 niggas was no frill Turning young niggas with principals to old men with debts And all the prank calls was death threats That bitch got the best sex all across the globe And the bitch head game was out of control (Chorus (twice)) (Verse Three) I wonder when I'm gone if you miss me Or do you miss that Don Perignon and that Christy I'm fuckin wit you I'm feeling your shape I'm feeling your eyes later on I'm feeling your ass and feeling your thighs Sweetheart you book smart and street-smart I knew you was my type from the very, very start I'm in to tongue kissing 4 play all day Mamma ain't home so the noise is okay ODB you know he like it the raw way Latex, safe sex ,no hickeys on the neck Now your learning The lords blesses make me wiser as the worlds turning My tongue touch the right spot I'll have your toes curling Whether we just kicking it or we sexing I'm a pro baby girl I spit game to perfection So when niggas make mistakes I correct 'em and When niggas get out of line I check the man (Chorus) (50 Cent talking) Yeah........ don't think I forgot about your fat ass though Irv You wanna run around takin pictures like you Puff Daddy and the Family motherfucker With that bitch Charli Baltimore... Bitch look like she died last week pale as fuck Paint her hair red... Think she gon' sell records tryin' to impersonate Pink and shit! Bitch... punk-ass motherfuckers All you motherfuckers get rolled on nigga Ain't no motherfucking, "leave her alone 'cause she a bitch" FUCK that nigga!! Fuck all of it!! But not you Ashanti baby You know how I feel about you baby Come on... come here girl... c'mon gimme some love girl Fuck Irv Gotti... you know how me and you do baby You know... they say I'm sexy now... HaHaHa Aye Irv your momma got a thing for me!!!! |
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from Westwood (2003) | |||||
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from 50 Cent - Guess Who'S Beck? (2002)
New York City...
You are now rockin with 50 cent.. Are you ready? (Gun click ~ nigga dies, WUT UP) I said are you ready? See you wit me nigga? DROP DEAD. Paid for a hooptie but I wanted a drop "G UNIT " "Somthin new" I'm not that nigga in your video I'm not a trick I don't love the hoes and niggaz know, I be on the low but I miss my dawg and I twist my drawer I'm not that nigga that you think you know I walk around with a big fo-fo ) You front on me I'm gone get at your dawg I be at rite are your crib, right at your door What up 50 (what up.)? Coming up I haven't had much , but I did want a lot I had paper for a hoopty but I wanted a drop so you know, I had to make something out OF nothing Like turn an empty spot into a crack spot pumping i'm so hard at nineteen I bought a benz, I did. The older people weren't really feeling the kid They try to find out where I live so that they could run in my home but you can not hustle a hustler I peeped it and slid (peeped...) Back then, Niggaz used to call me bo At six months I told them "Million go tops on Gar-bo" Country came around, he is into clapping country left, same sh*t started happening Like "He shot rob for some ends, rob shot joe for some skins, Cory shot Drew and we was friends," money turned boys into men The cycle never changes, shit just starts again.. "naw nigga, nuthing has changed nigga, yea I was gone for a minute, but I'm BACK!" (damn 50 it's good to see you back in the hood) you see my cherry red SL nigga I'm doing swell sometimes I can't find the words to say how I feel so, I take a quote from menace "LOOK AT THE WHEELS!!" I'm addicted to stunting, now that I'm holding something, I got a trunk full of guns from VA to ? (oh will you let me hold something?) nigga you high or something? I don't play games I'm about my money nigga buy something! I got a few 5's, I got a few 9's, Here nigga take one... "yea, don't ever say I don't do anything for you nigga, you do not say I didn't look out for you. Know what I mean? But make sure nigga that you go catch some jokes when you come back you gonna have my paper for that thang thang know what I'm sayin? I don't want it back, don't try to use it then give it back to me Cuz I ya'll niggaz now, runnin around sayin "50 getting all this rap money and he won't help us" ha ha... Sit tight nigga I'm comin! You know? New shit!!! All the shit I put out on the mix tapes is for the mix tapes I got a million... OH MY GOD!! My shit is so hot right now I'm in the zone |
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from 50 Cent - Guess Who'S Beck? (2002)
50 CENT LYRICS
"Rotten Apple" (50 Cent) I'm on parole, I used to be on probaaaaaation I'm with my gun I get full coporaaaaaation I tell you "take it off" no hesitaaaaaation ***** you play around, I lay you down That's how it's goin' down Don't play wit' me, I don't have patieeeeeents My headachin', and I need my medicaaaaaaation ****** be hatin', they don't know what they faaaaaacin' ***** you play around, I lay you down That's how it's goin' down I be in court throwin' signs like I'm a maaaaaason ***** witness against me, I'ma eraaaaaase 'em If they try an runaway, I'ma chaaaaaaase 'em Now with the pound, and I'm a lay 'em down That's how it's goin' down (Chorus) Better watch how you talk Better watch where you walk On the streets of New York That's how we get down 22's on the jeep Somthin' deep in the seat When we creep wit the heat That's how we get down (50 Cent) Wise men listen and laugh while fools talk Stick up kids don't live long in New York **** around and catch the wrong jukes on the street Get caught slippin', then get hit wit' like three In every hood in the US, I'm that**** they feelin' Rap full of good guys, 50 Cent is the villan I play the bar with 8 bottles all night gettin' right Teachin' the hoodrats what Cristal taste like I put 60 on wrist, 12 on my fist, 100 on my neck We in the hood nigga schemin', what you expect? My S on 22's leave ya hos confuuuuuused On the track ready to choose, like "Daddy we want you" My love live ain't change, the shorties still hug me Bullet wound in my face, and bitches still love me Now Nelly told you how them country boys talk I came to teach you how we put it down in New York That's how we get down (Chorus) Better watch how you talk Better watch where you walk On the streets of New York That's how we get down 22's on the jeep Somthin' deep in the seat When we creep wit the heat That's how we get down (50 Cent) In the city, a young buck'll tell you how the mac spit O.G. give 'em the word, you gonna get yo' ass hit I don't know why niggaz like to talk bad about me I'm the richest nigga they know without a G.E.D. Man it could be the money, it could be the ice It could be they'd like to be me and can't live my life You should here they be sayin' man "50 be flippin'" "Shot my man over 7 grams, that nigga be trippin'" I know death is promised, I don't fear gettin' murked It's when a nigga half-way killa ya homie, it hurts Now we can hit the club and get it crunked Or you could start some shit, and I could hit you with the pump, you can have it how you want But I know you like my style (Uh-Huh) Ya like how I break it down, wanna get rich? I'll show you how, take this pack, pump these pieces That's how we get down (Chorus) Better watch how you talk Better watch where you walk On the streets of New York That's how we get down 22's on the jeep Somthin' deep in the seat When we creep wit the heat That's how we get down |
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from 50 Cent - Guess Who'S Beck? (2002)
(50 Cent)
Uh huh...yea Verse 1 Shorty the Henny got me feeling right Ya heard me? My momma gone you could spend the night Ya heard me? I'm not playing I'm trying to f**k tonight Ya heard me? Clothes off face down ass up c'mon Shorty you roll with the winners right Ya heard me? You see now me I got my money right Ya heard me? I'm tryin to teach you how to play, how the big boys play When you come around my way Ya heard me? You see the Bentley got the 20 inch crome Ya heard me? You could get in but don't touch the phone Ya heard me? Money come money go I know But everytime I flow it's mo money fa sho Ya heard me? In the street niggas sayin I'm nice Ya heard me? Watch flooded no more room for ice Ya heard me? Niggas be on tv struttin' hard And in the hood the same niggas that be gettin' robbed Ya heard me? You might hear I get shot but I don't get robbed Cause me, I be on my jog (Chorus) You like it when I back that ass up on you? (50 Cent) Ooh, baby I like it, I like it When I work that ass, that ass (50 Cent) Baby I like it, I like it when you put it on me I got a Kool-Aid smile And baby I like it, I like it (50 Cent) Everytime we dance you make it worth my while And baby I like it, I like it Verse 2 Shorty if you wanna roll with some ballers and shot callers I wanna make sure you hear me Ya heard me? We rap now we rollin and I'm holdin' And I'm gonna make sure you hear me Ya heard me? I freak off with the video chicks Ya heard me? Sweatin' tracks out in back of the 6 Ya heard me? MTV they gonna play my hits Ya heard me? Even though I'm real ghetto and shit Ya heard me? I got a g niggas shoot that ace Ya heard me? Your ass bettin' I'm gonna cut your face Ya heard me? Last thing I need is to catch a new case I don't know nothing about them high heads but I sell base Ya heard me? The city boys trying to kill a kid Ya heard me? Shot me up in front of my crib Ya heard me? He had the drop I couldn't run from him Shot in the hand trying to take the f**king gun from him Ya heard me? Little homie saying "50 you tough" Ya heard me? 9 shots just wasn't enough Ya heard me? (Chorus) Verse 3 Nigga you best be commin' up with my cash Ya heard me? Don't make me go and get the Gat out the stash Ya heard me? I'll come back and pop one in your ass Ya heard me? Don't play wit the money, no not with the money Niggas get knocked when they start playing games Ya heard me? Stop telling the police my name Ya heard me? I don't mind givin chicks them tips Ya heard me? They let me play with then tits and hips Ya heard me? When I come through they know I'm a thug Out in Atlanta in the gentlemen's club Ya heard me? I rap but I'm still selling them o's Ya heard me? My man Mike still pimpin' them hoes Ya heard me? He said if the hoe knew better she'd come do better And make a pimp more chedder Ya heard me? (Chorus) (50 Cent) 50 make it crazy in the club I'm speaking clearly so you can hear me I come through niggas always show me love I'm speaking clearly so y'all can hear me Niggas want beef, y'all could see me in the street I'm speaking clearly so you can hear me But you better come correct, cause we move around with heat I'm speaking clearly so y'all can hear me |
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from 50 Cent - Guess Who'S Beck? (2002) | |||||
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from 50 Cent - Guess Who'S Beck? (2002) | |||||
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from 50 Cent - Guess Who'S Beck? (2002)
Lloyd Banks in the house, bad news
Tony Yayo in the house, bad news 50 cent in the house, bad news whenever 50 around its bad news Tray pound's in the house, bad news 40 Kal's in the house, bad news I got a knife in the house, bad news whenever 50 around its bad news (Lloyd Banks) I think little man mad cause I'm flossin' bad I ain't a wrestler, but I'll put your bitch the Boston crab I talk money cause it costs to brag Round here bitches walk round here that the horses have Rap it get your face stuck on them bricks I don't really like to exercise but I'll push up on a bitch Y'all sweet like 99 bananas That's why I got 99 niggaz wit 99 hammers They all want a nigga to stop Cause I rap slick enough to slip the ring off of Vivica Fox I'm just a playa that found out where the cokes know That's why I'mma be around longer than the Oprah show You and your man y'all both should know That all it takes is a finger to send you where the ghosts go Shit I been hated since the 5th grade that's why my best friend the tray pound, a ice pick, and a switch blade (Chorus) I don't like you, you don't like me Its not likely that we'll ever be friends Why pretend? (Ma, Banks' back at it again) I don't like you, you don't like me Its not likely that we'll ever be friends Why pretend? (Ma, Tony's back at it again) (Tony Yayo) Rule number one pick a target and study him for weeks See where they rest at and lay with their peeps Now you got the drop, know their daily routine So the 2nd rule please leave the crime scene please 3rd rule pick a day, 4th rule pick a time 5th rule pick a fifth, 6th rule pick a nine And the seventh rule make sure your sidearm sweet So when the shootout you leave him 6 feet deep 8th meet in a fast car with disguise Use a ski mask with shades on your eyes 9th rule don't say shit cause Po-Po listen Fuck around you end up being stuck in the system And the 10th rule don't put a tag on a broken heart Just put a toe-tag on your mark And rule number 11, you caught a body but you not a legend You better watch where you heading (Chorus) I don't like you, you don't like me Its not likely that we'll ever be friends Why pretend? (Ma, 50's back at it again) I don't like you, you don't like me Its not likely that we'll ever be friends Why pretend? (Ma, 50's back at it again) (50 cent) Go ahead go against me I'll hurt your feelings Stones in my cross the size of your earrings My confidence level's high nigga can't tell Licking my lips at yo' bitch like I'm L L I smile like a nigga in jail receiving mail Better yet like nigga Bookers that made bail From day one I came in the game they said I was hot They got scared, "Cent got money", and I got shot You so much pressure on me when you compare me to Pac I'm just a new kid, I can't help that I'm hot What little niggaz say to 50 cent don't matter I'll fire shots at the ship and watch the seas scatter my enemies never turn into friends, my friends turn into enemies you scared then get the fuck around me Record execs, know not to play with my check I come through with my knife cut that vein on ur neck (YEAH!) (Chorus) I don't like you, you don't like me Its not likely that we'll ever be friends Why pretend? (Ma, 50's back at it again) I don't like you, you don't like me Its not likely that we'll ever be friends Why pretend? (Ma, 50's back at it again) Lloyd Banks in the house, bad news Tony Yayo in the house, bad news 50 cent in the house, bad news whenever 50 around its bad news Tray pound's in the house, bad news 40 Kal's in the house, bad news I got a knife in the house, bad news whenever 50 around its bad news |
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from 50 Cent - Guess Who'S Beck? (2002)
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 Hey yo, 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 dat? dat 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 dimple 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, dope, 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 fear 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 cross, no flaws You see me in the hood, I got at least 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 dope, 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 KEYSHAWNS 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 dope, you not like me |
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from 50 Cent - Guess Who'S Beck? (2002)
50 bars of pleasure 50 bars of pain
When I'm dead and gone niggaZ gonna remember my name 50 (repeat) Yo black is flashy like Alpo gun happy like Pappy Sneaky muthafucka remind me of nigga that clap me He ain't the type you shoot dice with and win dog Unless you try'na get your ass layed out in gilmore Yes we soldiers, remind me of Troy and E-Bags When they came through they hollad like "What up Conrad?" Grimey niggaz they loved to get gully Summer time still had on black gloves and scullies The Lex 450 pulled up that's Cornbread Them niggaZ from Philly would of called him an old head But he an OG remind me of ChaZ and Bump real low key Sounded like he didn't know nothing about drama For this money shit many men do trauma Switchy walked in son, this bitch had the baddest ass The bulletproof glass was rolled up on the S-Class Heard in DC he kept mad blocks in order Picture this a young nigga gettin it like Rich Porter Sonny came in for half a pit He got knocked, he on lock still controllin' his spot from constop Pop pulled up in the CL5 his project changed His man just got fucking murked by Salene Heard he got it in the range nigga came popped one in his brain Over some-thing took his watch and his chain Country boys off the hook down there in Richmond main. In the black 740 I sat, my hat turned back Bow down baby nelly singing my wrist blinging What! I'm waiting on this nigga Wise we lost for two pies Son he smokin that shit I can see it in his eyes Comin up wise emotions closed An' most buying round looking for wisemen toast Benny hopped out the Esculade with a few thourough men from B-More They sellin herion in Maryland reverse back to diesel Killed like 4 fiends his popularity grew that only ment more cream First it was him and his brother now he got a team Went from 5 and a half grams to living the dream City pulled up Goddamn you know his format Bentley is all marble in the door and floor match Get the hats out the stash box popped two glocks Peace "All eyeZ on me" 2pac Everybody knows he a boss he still gotta floss He on the same bullshit that sent Gotti up north That's Dime in the blue TS stunting like he Nicky Barnes He broke but he talk like a Don Homes hoppin out the Jag that's Max haitin cat Kill a nigga quick remind me of Haitian Jack I peep his style son I know his steelo, He on the d-low He smile at niggaZ mumbling fuck you in Creole Heard war stories bout how he maneuver with the Ruger Hold the iron horiZontally and send shots throug h ya Few niggaZ tried to murk him, most them got found Some turned away try to run they in wheelchairs now Banks hopped out bulletproof this, bulletproof that Bulletproof snorkel, bulletproof hat Got out a Black Hummer he blew 90 on that Poppin mad shit like he gonna bulletproof that lets go |
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from 50 Cent - Guess Who'S Beck? (2002) | |||||
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from 50 Cent - Guess Who'S Beck? (2002)
(50 Cent-talking over beat)
It's gangsta nigga It's too gangsta nigga I keep it gangsta nigga Wha wha It's gangsta nigga It's too gangsta nigga I keep it gangsta nigga Wha (50 Cent) Get out the club BITCH Niggas tryin to holla at you We want parlay wit you You won't show us no love BITCH Never thought you'd be on that BOUGE shit You on some movie shit Get out the club BITCH Niggas tryin to holla at you We wanna parlay wit you (50 Cent) Nigga I hate when bitches act like they too good for a nigga (yea) Like they anit grow up in the same hood wit a nigga In the club givin niggas the wrong numbers and wrong names Bitch why don't you take ya ass home and quit playin games They on that pretty shit (what) that high saditty shit (yea) They want me to trick, I ain't P. Diddy BITCH (woo) I'm gone show em now I'm gone show em how (show em how) How we break it down This is how it's goin down Them bitches think pussy precious Them niggas they wanna test us Got beef so we be wearin vest-es Look I don't give a fuck nigga Bitch I aint buyin no pussy Nigga you'll die if you push me Nigga you know I'm holy Bitch picture me rollin Hooker probably for paper, cause pussy come wit it I aint joking, pistol smoking, any nigga can get it While I'm ballin she by my side wit me But if some shit jump off she aint gone ride wit me Get out the club bitch (Chorus) Get out the club BITCH Niggas tryin to holla at you We want parlay wit you You won't show us no love BITCH Never thought you'd be on that loser shit You on some movie shit Get out the club BITCH Niggas tryin to holla at you We want parlay wit you You won't show us no love BITCH Never thought you'd be on that loser shit You on some movie shit (50 Cent) My whole team gettin dough bitch On the low bitch, friends'll kick a nigga do' down fo sho bitch Shorty we aint trippin, niggas just wanna dance wit cha I mean damn wont you give a nigga a chance wit you On that pre-Madonna shit, that Dolce & Gabbana shit Bet I can teach ya about Gucci, Fendi, and Prada bitch I met cha in the parkin lot, shit woulda been diffrent then You fix ya make-up, so much chrome on my Mercedes Benz I take ya to see Beth in Jersey, but you aint worthy Thats where we buy the ice at the right price Bitch you think you high class, you aint worth a third of a nigga Ya man is gangsta, but we aint never heard of the nigga Shit hit the fan, we fuck around and murdered a nigga Tell a punk to play his position and turn up missin Fuck around, his body get found, cut up in the kitchen I aint playin wit you bitch you better listen (Chorus) Get out the club BITCH Niggas tryin to holla at you We want parlay wit you You won't show us no love BITCH Never thought you'd be on that loser shit You on some movie shit Get out the club BITCH Niggas tryin to holla at you We want parlay wit you You won't show us no love BITCH Never thought you'd be on that loser shit You on some movie shit (50 Cent) This a low rider here bitch, in L.A. they show me love Niggas be under palm trees twistin Cali bud Call a Crip "Cuz", call a Blood "Dawg" I aint bangin so I holla like "Wat up yall?" Bitches know I be buggin when they don't show me no lovin I aint gotta say nuttin, niggas know I be thuggin When ever I'm around motherfuckas stop joke-in They know how I get down, I be motherfuckin Loc-in Shorty she like Bussa-Bus, she love Nas She like when L lick his lips, the bitch love stars After the club, Ima have her in the hot tub Her and her girlfriend gone show me some GROUPIE love (Chorus) Get out the club BITCH Niggas tryin to holla at you We want parlay wit you You won't show us no love BITCH Never thought you'd be on that loser shit You on some movie shit Get out the club BITCH Niggas tryin to holla at you We want parlay wit you You won't show us no love BITCH Never thought you'd be on that loser shit You on some movie shit Get out the club BITCH (50 Cent talking over beat) 2000 shit motherfucker you know how this shit goin down This is my shit, from now on this is my shit Nigga can't eat, nigga can't sleep, nigga can't do shit Unless I say he can nigga Nigga come 15 niggas, 10 knives I'll leave wit 4 stiches Nigga thats not assault, thats a insult You and every motherfucka that roll wit you You bitch ass nigga I'ma see you Nigga is sweet like candy I can get cha now or later You fucked up, shoulda murdered me playa Nigga is sweet like candy I don't care how much you pray Nigga I don't care how much you paid And you sweet like candy I can get you now or later, later, playa |
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from 50 Cent - Guess Who'S Beck? (2002)
(Chorus: *Scratching*)
Pain In Da Ass "Fuck You" 3x Styles "I don't give a fuck" 3x Styles "I don't give a fuck who you are" Pain In The Ass " Fuck You" Nas "Niggaz is this and that" Big Pun "I'm even, even better than before" Styles "I don't give a fuck who you are" Pain In Da Ass "Fuck you" Nas "Niggaz is this and that, I'm just, I'm just, I'm just the best" Styles "I don't give a fuck who you are" Pain In Da Ass "Fuck you" Nas "Niggaz is this and that" Big Pun "I'm even, even better than before" Styles "I don't give a fuck who you are" Nas "Niggaz is this and that, I'm just, I'm just, I'm just the best" (Verse) Either I'm trippin' off the ecstasy Or I could feel the world turnin' I'm havin' flashbacks, I can feel the shells burnin' Comin' up, I was taught never back down That's why I act the way I act now, hold the mac down 32 shots, squeeze til there ain't a shell left Come with my gun smokin', you can smell death They get the first laugh, I get the last laugh homie Hit the gas on it, pull up and mash on 'em There's a lot of talk in the streets about me Niggaz know, ain't nothing sweet about me Get back to questions, like "50, who shot ya?... You think it was Preme, Freeze or Tah, Tah?" Nigga, street shit should stay in the street So, keep it on the low But everybody who's somebody already know A few words for any nigga that get hit the fuck up My advice if you get shot down, is get the fuck up LET'S GO Chorus (Different Variations) (Verse) Maaaaaaaaan I told niggaz not to fuck with me they still push me Figured they'd get away with it cause Tone and Poke pussy I been gone through static, shot at with automatics Since 90, when Nas came out with "Illmatic" If Suge was home, Death Row would be good for me Cause Tommy Matola ain't shootin out in the hood wit me I've been shot 9 times my nigga that's why I walk funny Hit in the jaw once, why I talk funny With a Ruger on my hip, I walk the street with no care Think my grandma's prayers the only reason I'm here My wrist icy, keep my ears icy, keep my neck icy That's why you bitch like me, so I'm a heavyweight How dare these niggaz take me lightly? I ain't come to make friends and niggaz aint gotta like me My own homie said "50, you done lost yo' mind" Cause I shootout in broad day, run and toss my nine Chorus (Different Variations) (Verse) Can't find a nigga in the hood, that say "50 ain't hot" When I drop, I'ma sell like Eminem and Kid Rock Play the block, with the watch all rocked the fuck up Jukes me, A week later y'all be shot the fuck up Born a healthy baby, I wasn't always crazy This aint how moma rasied me, this how the hood made me The D's call me by my government name I be dumb and shoot up parks Have niggaz runnin' like "Jesus Comin'" There's wet pillows in prison, niggaz cry in the dark Cause if they did in the day, niggaz would question they heart So when they come home, the come home Walking that tough walk, talking that "Rockavalede" Talk'll get you shot in New York - BBBBLLLLATTTTT Sex, money, murder, I gotta eat But I aint tryin do +Hard Time+ like +Pistol P+ See, niggaz uptown understand me in the street You niggaz uptown'll "Stan" me in the street Ha-ha Chorus (Different Variations) |
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from 50 Cent - Guess Who'S Beck? (2002)
"Be A Gentleman"
(Chorus) It's best you be a gentleman and you watch what you say (bwahh nigga take that) Cuz Jesus Christ can't save you when you on ganster prey (50 Cent) Yo, no more freestyles and verses killin' Sticky and Ja I've movin' on now, I got bigger fish to fry Since 'How to Rob' a lot of niggas been naming names Monkey see monkey do, I done changed the game Still niggas acting like I don't get down or something Like I aint the next nigga to wear the crown or something You gonna talk about your chips till we run in your crib And you gone ask dumb questions like "Can I Live?" Look, If I shoot you, I'm famous If you shoot me your brainless, you said it yourself I'm slick enough to twist your lines and send them back at you Swift enough to snatch the mack and pop that at you Take it personal see if I won't send you to hell I've done told Ton and Pok? they better have my bail But if its over a mil don't put the crib up dun Cause if 50 get free nigga, 50 gonna run (Chorus 2x) It's best you be a gentleman and you watch what you say (bwahh bwahh, nigga take that) Or Jesus Christ can't save you once you go gangsta, friend (bo! bo! bo! bo! bo!...It's gangsta) (50 Cent) Look I'm supposed to be cocky, I ain't a po' no mo' I ain't gotta steal from the corna' store no mo' Got my own crib, I ain't sleepin' on the flo' no mo' Bouncers don't try to play me at the do' no mo' But when they see me they say search him "He might have the nine He might shoot this motherfucker up like Shyne" It's been a while since a new nigga came tight like this Ya man, he aight, but he ain't quite like this Niggas is feelin' it The Benz pullin up on the set (uh huh) Me jumpin out 30 tho on my neck (uh huh uh huh) And since you said it was nothin' to sweat (what) That you was outta line so here's what you get A verbal ass kickin' Jesus Christ sent me to test ya Let's see how see how he act's under pressure Till Makaveli returns it's 'All Eyez On Me' Till the feds build up cases and find pie's on me (Chorus 2x) It's best you be a gentleman and you watch what you say (bwahh bwahh bwahh, bwahh nigga take that) Or Jesus Christ can't save you once you go gangsta, friend (bo! bo! bo!, It's gangsta) It's gangsta, 2000 shit (Echoing) Ya'll know what you need to do, get together, make a We Are The World record, faggot ass niggas) |
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from 50 Cent - Guess Who'S Beck? (2002)
Nobody likes me
Nobody likes me, but that's okay Cuz 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! Wutup homie For bitches who don't know me ...They wanna blow me cuz the shit I floss wit sayin a lot for me I came into rap humble, I don't give a fuck now Serve anybody like niggas 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!] Y'all niggas 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, niggas 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, cuz niggas 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] 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 Don 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 niggas 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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from 50 Cent - Guess Who'S Beck? (2002) | |||||
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from 50 Cent - Guess Who'S Beck? (2002)
Aight, check this shit out
Y'all niggaz gon' stay in the car I'm'a go right over here and see somethin Gimme ten minutes, If I don't come out, y'all come in The money stays in the car 'til I say so... Aiyyo, whattup whattup, man This is what y'all niggaz is workin' wit' for 22 cents a gram? Man, when I come up in here treat me like I'm fam I could go Uptown and get this shit for 16 cents a gram Bottom line is, man, I gotta cop and go I got a spot and I can't afford to stop the flow Poppi, what the fuck is the matter wit' ya Man? Standin' against the wall with a gun in his hand I ain't on no funny shit I'm on some get this money shit Every four days in PA I move another brick According to the DA I sold dope in VA my crew stay in Queens but my plates say VA I'll show you where I rest at, it aint hard to find me Let me buy a brick and get the other on cossimy (Hey, this life is hard man) I know, don't remind me If I catch another case I'ma kill Guiliani It ain't even safe to sell a pack at night Got task ridin 'round the projects on Mountain Bikes (Chorus - repeat 2X) NY ain't the same, it's OT playa you can go and cop coke from the corner Bodega hit the highway and take it to a town near you And get that money man, get that money man Now, if you come to 1-3-4 and I'm not around That means I copped and I went outta town You motherfuckers know how I get down About my money man, about my money man |
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from 50 Cent - Guess Who'S Beck? (2002)
(talking)
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh Southside, what y'all niggas know about the dirty south? One time (Chorus) Lord forgive me, for I've sinned Over and over again, just to stay on top I recall memories, filled with sin Over and over again, and again Yo, when you hear talk of the southside, you hear talk of the team See niggas feared Prince and respected Prim' For all you slow muthaf**kas I'm a break it down iller See Preme was a business man and Prince was the killer Remember, he used to push the bulletproof BM, uh huh This here get ya seasick, I sat back and peeped shit The roll with Easy Rider and they ain't get blunted Had the whole projects workin for fifty on five-hundred As a youth, all I ever did was sell crack I used to idolize cat Hurt me in my heart to hear that nigga snitched on Pat how he go out like that? Rumors in the hood was ?? was snitchin I ain't believe that, pa, he helped me cop my first GSX-R Had the four-runner, the Z, the 5 and the 3 Used to drive his truck through the hood draggin jet skis From Gerald Wallace to Baby Wise, don't be suprised Of how freely I thought of names of games who dealt with pies Like L-A-N-Y's, L got shot in the neck, then told us connect Them niggas who shot 'em got 'em for ten bricks F**kin Dominicans, turned around and gave 'em more bricks (Chorus) That first verse is just a dose of the shit that I'm on Consider this the first chapter in the ghetto's Quran I know a lot of niggas that get dough like Remmy and Joe And Prince and Rightous from Hillside with the mole on his nose Throughout my struggles through the hood, I started learnin Life's a bitch, with a pretty face, but she burnin Man I'm a get cheese like Chaz then run through wips like Cigar Gamble all the time like country-curly head Prince and Tata Po-po under pressure too, they know what they facin Go against crews like B-Bo and killers like Patty Mason A lotta niggas I know been corrupted since birth Enticed to rob nuns for fun, for everything they worth I know some cats that hail at old complexes like Cooley Wall Together niggas stand and divided they fall Round here, shook niggas they keep it in motion Come around here with your rollie you can get robbed like Ocean Lord knows, Tommy had loved and sold Helicopters, Rolls Royces with Louie VaTonne interior Might sound like I'm fantasizin, but son I'm dead serious Montanna was no dummy, brought Benice to watch the money Had money out the ass, he politic like the Asian FEDs couldn't catch him dirty so settled for tax evasion (Chorus) Yo, rest in peace to Rich and Ron, money what they was about yo The twins was some queens but got crazy cream with Alpo Throughout my time I heard tales of Himey Frenchy, Jamaican Pauly, Ducky Cally Rodney Bump and Chick, shit A lot a niggas flow the way I flow but ain't been in the game all their life so don't know who I know Writin rhymes is the best way I express how I feel If I ain't rich by twenty-six, I'll be dead or in jail Comin up I heard sippin to much booze'll leave you confused And if you watch the news you see playas in this game that lose I'm forgettin Lefty and Jazz, Pretty Tony and Lance Head Lou, Mel son, Troy and E Money Bags And a conversation over shrimp and lobster And Benny Hiners heard Chico stopped boxin, and started robbin diners Shout out to Clanvis and Clutch, Bob Dre, Black Will If the flow don't kill you the Mac will |
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from 50 Cent - Guess Who'S Beck? (2002) | |||||
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from 50 Cent - Guess Who'S Beck? (2002)
50 Cent)
Yo this is 50 cent, yaknawsayin? I'm here with my man Whoo Kid, you know how I put it down nigga It's not safe around here as soon as the street lights G-Unit nigga (random shout outs) (50 cent and G-Unit) We can't get Money selling weed...WE GON SELL COKE Ain't no money sellin' coke... WE GON SELL DOPE Ain't no money sellin' dope... WE GON SELL X And if niggaz wont by the X... WE GON SELL TECS (Lloyd Banks) My advice for y'all niggaz is stop frontin 'Cause 50 say pop somethin', I'm gon pop somethin', what up? (50 Cent) Don't make me send a nigga to you, 16 shot ruger Send twelve shots to you, run four in the clip Get in the whip, it's a wrap (Lloyd Banks) Nah fuck that (50 Cent) Man, you done hit the nigga twice in the head, that's that Niggaz running with the steel out, now it's time to peel out (Lloyd Banks) 50 let me drive (50 Cent) Nah I got this, nigga chill out (Lloyd Banks) It'd be nice to get the niggaz ice, get it, give it back (50 Cent) Just get in the corner store cause it's full of them A-rabs They blowin' the shit up like it's okay I got a bomb on my waist I'm Kamikaze (laughing) I dare Ds to get next to me (Lloyd Banks) Or a nigga to creep up and put a tec to me (explosion) Yeah, yeah that's it, it's a freestyle The fuck you want for free? Fucking A-rabs just ran the planes into the fucking building Coke price went up 10 grand this fucking week |
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from 50 Cent - Guess Who'S Beck? (2002)
Uh, yeah, 50 Cent
It's Murda Mix Tape Vol. 3 Whoo Kid, Stretch Armstrong nigga Take that, yo, aiyyo Niggas don't wanna see 50 on a track I got these cats that rap scared of me like I'm Ace and Jack Fuck that, if I was you, I be scared of me too Yo Stretch, roll the weed, while I tell 'em what I need I need cream by the stacks, shells for the mac Rims for the 'Ac, and a bitch to blow her back I need the coke to come back, mad time on a jack I got the Fendi sweaters, all I need is the hats I need the police to chill, stay the fuck off my back See a nigga in a Benz, sway peddling crack I need a stash box son, so I could stash the gat I need a stadium light, to leave 'em blind as a bat Flipping from under my plate, while I'm running from Jake I'm making mistakes, look I need extra pace My man up north, need the new Stretch Mix Tape I'm physically fit, nah for real son I'm in shape I need that Beyonce bitch, to take me out on a date Niggas follow my footsteps, 'cause everything I say, slick But I need y'all niggas, to get off my dick My description in three words, real witty cat I'm in the club in ATL, I'm where the titties at What, what, 50 Cent nigga, 2000 shit, Stretch Arm-Strong Whoo Kid nigga, Whoo Kid nigga, Whoo Kid nigga What, Whoo Kid nigga, this how it's going down |
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from Eminem - Encore (2004)
<i><b>Eminem</b></i>
There's not much you could do or say to phase me People think I'm a little bit crazy I get it from all angles, even occasionally Doc Dre-zie'll Have to step in every once in a while to save me To make me stop and think about it 'fore I just say things Sometimes I forget what other people just may think A lot of rappers probably wouldn't know how to take me If they heard some shit, I'd lay the tape 'fore they erase me I maybe a little too fast paced and racy Sometimes the average listener rewinds and plays me twenty times Cuz I say so many rhymes, it may seem like I'm goin too fast cuz my mind is racing And I could give a fuck what category you place me Long as when I'm pushing up daisies and gone As long as you place me amongst one of them greats When I hit the heavenly gates I'll be cool beside Jay-Z For every single die hard fan who embraced me I'm thankful for the talent in which God gave me And I'm thankful for the environment that he placed me Believe it or not, I thank my mom for how she raised me In the neighborhood daily, they jumped and chased me It only made me what I am today, see Regardless of what anybody believes who hates me You ain't gonna make or break me Tryna strip me of my credibility and make me look fake, G You're only gonna be in for a rude awakening Cuz sooner or later you haters are all gonna face me And when you face me with all the shit you've been saving to say to me You had all this time to think about it Now don't pussy out and try to wimp out, face me Cuz I've been patiently waiting for the day That we finally meet in the same place to see <i><b>Nate Dogg</b></i> No matter how many battles I been in and won No matter how many magazines on my nuts No matter how many emcees I eat up Ooh ooh, it's never enough No matter how many battles I been in and won No matter how many magazines on my nuts No matter how many emcees I eat up Ooh, ooh, it's never enough <i><b>50 Cent</b></i> My flow's untouchable now you gotta face it Uh oh, it gets worse when I go back to the basics You go say the wrong shit and get your face split The smell of victory, love it so much I can taste it The spot my talk, it blaze a direct hit Graze it, your peace talk, save it You shit sounds dated, you're overrated I'm obligated to study your moves then crush you mutherfuckers If I'm the best and the worst, then God's gift is a curse Soldier trained to destroy, you payin' attention boy? I spit shit, slick shit, so quick you miss it To be specific I go ballistic as hieroglyphic My music is a drug, press play, you ain't gotta sniff it Chew it or pop it, roll a bag and then chop it Get your high over and over, but you gotta cop it When it's hot, it's hot Your hatin' is undeniable, stop it <i><b>Nate Dogg</b></i> No matter how many battles I been in and won No matter how many magazines on my nuts No matter how many emcees I eat up Ooh ooh, it's never enough No matter how many battles I been in and won No matter how many magazines on my nuts No matter how many emcees I eat up Ooh, ooh, it's never enough |
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from Eminem - Encore (2004)
<i><b>Eminem</b></i>
If there's any bitches in this room, then there's something I gotta say For all the fools who fell for the first girl who comes their way I've been down that road and now I'm back, sittin' on square one Tryna pick myself up where I started from <i><b>Obie Trice</b></i> I never woulda thought that I'd see you outta control Even though my penis was deep down in your hole You should know between us we was like mates to soul Nothing could intervene us, especially no hoes You was more or so the chalant type, I chose To more shows, haunted you nights I suppose That's how it go, with time spent, emotion grows In the beginning, friends we decided to roll So who's responsible when you get excited, explode And Obie's grinning, then you invite that Obie's cold But bitches the gon' talk, niggas they gon' hate We established this way before we became mates So whats required is that you chill with all that fire Get your desire when I retire Spend some time with me, say that you'll be mine I never thought I'd find someone to be mine Lord knows I was right cuz you just crossed the line Spend some time with me, say that you'll be mine <i><b>Eminem</b></i> I used to say I never met a girl like you before Still ain't got a fuckin' clue as to who you truly are Almost went as far as introducing you to my daughters Till you went as far as goin' and snoopin' through my drawers Now I just feel stupid for the loop that you threw me for Can't believe I almost flew the coop for some stupid whore You used to say all you wanted was for me to be yours All I ever wanted from you was a few booty calls If you recall I used to treat you like a groupie broad When we fucked I refused to even take my jewelry off But it threw me off the first time I called and you blew me off It was a shock, it struck me as odd but it turned me on You started getting moody on me, pretty soon we'd argue And the ruder you got, the more beautiful you got to me And who woulda even knew that who woulda even thought possibly Cupid could shoot another one of them God damn darts at me It's true that I got shot in the heart But when someone seems too good to be true, they usually are But see, when you're in it it's too hard to see Till you pull up and see some other dude's car parked and reach Up under the seat as your heart starts to beat Before you make a decision that's life altering And just as you halt and you turn and you start to leave You hear them words echoing, almost haunting, that taunting ring Spend some time with me, say that you'll be mine I never thought I'd find someone to be mine Lord knows I was right cuz you just crossed the line Spend some time with me, say that you'll be mine <i><b>Stat Quo</b></i> In most cases, Stat's attitude is fuck-a-bitch My only motive is to get head and fuck a bitch But you was different, thought we shared a covenant Even held your hand in public, we sufferin' because of this Shorty on some whole 'notha other shit Tryna play sick thinkin' i'mma trick off rick I'll admit, I was caught in the mix, down to commit Feed you the best of me, I shoulda fed you piss We started off closer than close But who coulda predicted to know, your triflin' ways woulda stopped our growth And the final result, back in that same boat I ask myself, do I love these hoes? NO! <i><b>50 Cent</b></i> Em introduced us, "50 this is Tanya, Tanya this is 50" Then slid off and left her to kick it with me I complimented her, I said you have very nice lips With my imagination, I could see her suckin' my dick We played the phone game, a week later, shit changed fast Had her comin' over in a cab to give me some ass Downtown Manhattan on the balcony, stare at the skyline Penthouse full of imported shit, you know how I grind She got to talkin', talkin' like an opportunist too Why talk when suckin' my dick is the real career move? Said she's an inspiring actress, she do videos for practice Yeah, yeah, now how many times have I heard that shit? Spend some time with me, say that you'll be mine I never thought I'd find someone to be mine Lord knows I was right cuz you just crossed the line Spend some time with me, say that you'll be mine |
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from Eminem - Encore (2004)
[50] Sh-sh-sh-SHA-DY! Aftermath
[Em] Ha ha, G-G-G-G, G-Unit! [50] Ha ha! (Ha ha) [Chorus: 50 + Eminem] Cause we came here to set this party off right Let′s bounce toniiiiiight And if they don′t let us in through the front do′ Come through the siiiiiide Cause I don′t wanna ever leave the game without at least saying goodbyyyyyye So all my people on the left, all my people on the right scream one last tiiiiiime [Eminem] Get your ass up for the Doctor, one more time Get your ass up for the Doctor, c′mon now! Here we go, cliffhanger, it′s another club banger Got you hangin on the edge of your seat, get on down [Dr. Dre] Time′s up, game′s over, you lose, I win Bout to show these knuckleheads how to do this here Ooh yeah, new year, next phase begin Look who′s got you goin crazy again I′ma trend, I set one every time I′m in I go out and just come back full circle again You a fad, that means you somethin that we already had But once you′re gone you don′t come back [Eminem] Too bad, you′re off the map now, radar can′t even find you We stay on the grind you slip, we out-grind you You walk around mad you let your anger blind you We walk around just playin the violin behind you Enough with all the pissin and moanin, whinin and bitchin Sit and observe, listen you′ll learn if you pay attention Why I send multi-platinum albums, later three diamond Worldwide, we on the charts with a bullet, and still climbin [Chorus] [Em] When Dr. Dre says crunk, you will get it crunk! [Dr] Get it crunk (CRUNK, CRUNK, CRUNK) [Em] And when 50 Cent says jump, you get on one foot and [50] Jump (JUMP, JUMP, JUMP) [Dr. Dre] The buzz is tremendous, we drop you artists censored I don′t gotta promote it, for you to know that Doc is off the benches [Eminem] We keep the party rockin off the hinges We ain′t showin off, we′re just goin off, popular contentions [Dr. Dre] But critics say that Doc is soft, Doc is talk, Doc is all washed up, knock it off, who the fuck is Doc impressin? Doctor′s this, Doctor′s that, you got the wrong impression You must be on the cock of Doc, cause Doc left you all guessin So DJ take the needle and just drop it on the record {*crackle*} WHAT? We gon′ have this motherfucker hoppin in a second (PUMP PUMP) That′s why we always save the best cut last to make you scratch and itch for it like fresh cut grass [Eminem] Cause we done swam with the sharks, wrestled with alligators Spoke to a generation of angry teenagers whom if it wasn′t for rap to bridge the gap maybe raised to be racist Who may have never got to see our faces Graced the cover of Rolling Stone pages, broke down barriers of language and races, just call on the caped crusaders and leave it to me and Dre to pass the mic and we can play the back and forth all day like the hot potato game that′s why we came to [Chorus] [Eminem] 50 Cent, c′mon! [50 Cent] Bounce now, hands up, you know how we do We make the club jump, everywhere we go It′s no secret, everybody know When Dre′s involved, there′s plenty money involved [Dr. Dre] And plenty honies involved, the sunny Sundays and palm trees Cali, every day is just another party from the valleys All the way to them 8 Mile alleys, let′s rally [Eminem] Hands up for the grand finale Now raise up out your seat, Dre′s about to speak Blaze a pound of weed six days up out the week [Dr. Dre] You can catch me in the studio, bangin out the beats to provide you with the heat that keep blazin out your speaker [Eminem] So never say never cause Shady/Aftermath together along with G-Unit Records, presents the return of The, The Doc (and Shady) no one can do it better We tear the club up and leave without a shred of evidence that uh [Chorus] [Eminem] Yeah! Ha ha Still Aftermath, 2006 And don′t worry bout that ″Detox″ album, it′s comin We gon′ make Dre do it (ha ha) 50 Cent, G-Unit Obie Trice, D-Twizy, Stat Quo, Dr. Dre, we ain′t leavin Let′s go! Ha ha Ladies and gentlemen Thank you all for comin out PEACE! {*crowd cheers to fade and chants ″Em-i-nem*} [Eminem] Oh shit, I almost forgot, you′re comin with me! {*gunshots*} [Eminem] {*laughing*} {*scream*} [Eminem] {*laughing*} Bye bye! |
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from Hip Hop Grove - Shut Up (2004)
Go, go, go, go, go, go
Go, shorty It's your birthday We gon' party like it's your birthday We gon' sip Bacardi like it's your birthday And you know we don't give a fuck it's not your birthday! You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub Look, mami, I got the X, if you into takin' drugs I'm into havin' sex, I ain't into makin' love So come give me a hug, if you into getting rubbed You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub Look, mami, I got the X, if you into takin' drugs I'm into havin' sex, I ain't into makin' love So come give me a hug, if you into getting rubbed 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 hoes down, G's up I see Xzibit in the Cut, 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 don't walk wit' a limp (I'm ight) In the hood, in L.A, they 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 I'm loco And the plan is to put the rap game in a choke hold I'm full of focused man, my money on my mind I got a mill out the deal and I'm still on the grind Now shorty said she feeling my style, she feeling my flow Her girlfriend wanna get bi and they ready to go You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub Look, mami, I got the X, if you into takin' drugs I'm into havin' sex, I ain't into makin' love So come give me a hug, if you into getting rubbed You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub Look, mami, I got the X, if you into takin' drugs I'm into havin' sex I, ain't into makin' love So come give me a hug, if you into getting rubbed My flow, my show brought me the doe That bought me all my fancy things My crib, my cars, my clothes, my jewels Look, nigga, I done came up and I ain't change 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 jaws get to bumpin' in the club it's on I wink my eye at you, 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 and watch the money pile up Or we go upside they head wit' a bottle of bub They know where we fuckin' be You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub Look, mami, I got the X, if you into takin' drugs I'm into havin' sex, I ain't into makin' love So come give me a hug, if you into getting rubbed You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub Look, mami, I got the X, if you into takin' drugs I'm into havin' sex, I ain't into makin' love So come give me a hug, if you into getting rubbed Don't try to act like you ain't know where we been either, nigga, But I lo chupe a junior, yeah In the club all the time, nigga, it's about to pop off, nigga G-Unit |
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from 50 Cent - The New Breed [single] (2005)
(50 Cent)
Unh, yeah..I like the way this feel right here yo...turn me up in the head phones just a lil' bit yeah.. (50 Cent + (Lloyd Banks) There ain't shit in this world deeper than loyalty and love (Except loyalty and love, between thugs) For you, I pull up in the whip and spray the whole strip (For you, I walk up close and lay a nigga's kin) For you, there ain't a damn thing that I won't do I'm a Thug, this my way I show, my love for you (Nigga for you, I get the coke, I'ma turn it into cash) For you, if we go broke, we gon' rob a nigga ass (For you, if we get knocked, I'ma have to take the weight 'Cause with a record like yours dogg, you ain't stayin' upstate) Nigga for you, I kill a whole God damn crew (Why?) 'Cause I know you'd do the same thing too...haha I ride, you ride for me, my enemies your enemies How could you not love a Thug like me? (Chorus) Would you ride for me? (you ain't even got to ask) Would you die for me? (nigga, they blast you, they blast me) Would you cry for me? (shit, when I die - don't cry for me, just keep reppin' Southside for me) Nigga, you ride for me? (you ain't even got to ask) Would you die for me? (nigga, they blast you, they blast me) Would you cry for me? (shit, when I die - don't cry for me, just keep reppin' Southside for me) (50 Cent + (Lloyd Banks) (Nigga, I'm the stem, you the crack I'm the clip, you the gat I'm the glock, you the mac I'm the artist, you the trap I'm a pen, you the pad I'm the Dutch, you the bag I'm the knife, you the stab I'm the driver, you the Jag) I'm the ice, you the bezel I'm grimy, you ghetto I'm the bow, you the arrow I'm the shell, you the barrel I'm a pimp, you a player I'm dope, you the hustler I'm a nine, quiet me down, you the muffler (Chorus) (Tony Yayo) You can catch me in public housing, wit' bundles of D Or in the Santa Monica mountains, bundled up to ski Since, time is money, I rhyme on the clock And walk through the strip with a nine in the ox You seen the ice, you know it's top notch And when it comes to dice, I'm seeing' shorty to the shot box Banks stop, guns pop through your tank top And leave you wet up like a sonar range drop When I grind, I wear the same thing tomorrow When you grind, it's Showtime at the Apollo Damn near every rapper gotta hide sixteen Well my flow's like a ho that's sixteen I ran through niggas, dismantled niggas They mad 'cause they see me in Cancun bitches But I'm ghetto, straight from the 'hood my nigga If there's no toothbrush I'ma use my finger I got so many minks, and so many leathers The crib is surrounded by animal protesters I'm a grown man, still livin' like I'm young With the mind of an old man, full of wisdom Here the cops come, task force van Rock so much ice, I'm called Jack Frost man And while we sippin' on cris', you sippin' backwash man Your team got heart, but your heart's in my hand You want sixteen bars, in song format Or sixteen cars on your mom's doormat...wha |
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from 50 Cent - The New Breed [single] (2005)
(50 Cent)
Yeah..50 Cent, Lloyd Banks, Tony Yayo G-UNIT! (Lloyd Banks) This rap shit plays a major part of my life So if you jeapordize it I got the right To send a mothafucka at you tonight G-Unit! And I ain't stoppin' to my clique poppin' Swimmin' in barrels of money Ma could walk around wit' a head up and challenge you dummy It's funny, niggas rather see you sufferin' and hungry I'm hungry as hell, skatin' with another nigga's money You lyin' your ass off, you know you ain't that tough I'm pullin' your mask off as soon as you act up You know what I came for, it isn't the game ball Artillary that's about as long as a chainsaw (Lloyd Banks!) By the way, this feels like I'm dreamin' Forty cal. under my pillow, condom feelin' my semen The physical presence of a female, form of a demon That's why, I fuck 'em and leave 'em Get my nut while I'm breathin' 'Cause they thought they'd catch me slippin', now I'm duckin' and trippin' That's a thousand dollar outfit what the fuck is you rippin'? You trippin', more records could get my ass in position Death wish for no religion whether Catholic or Christian Listen, I went through my ambition in and out the kitchen With probable cause, it's probably sendin' out to prison You got soldiers, but you still gotta respect ours We got more four five's and nines than a deck of cards (Tony Yayo) You can take me out the 'hood, but can't take the 'hood out me ('Cause what?) 'Cause I'm ghetto, I'm ghetto Niggas hate when you do good But when you broke, your friends and your enemies They love you, they love you "Cheche, get the Yayo" Picture me being crack, out of town, trips on the trail "Cheche, get the Yayo" Picture me being crack (Tony Yayo!) You can sift me, cut me, I'll turn you to a junkie I'm the number one seller in the whole fuckin' country Wallstreet niggas, they cop me on the low White boys don't call me coke, they call me blow It's time to go, on the bus, the train, the plane I'll smuggle, I'm nothin' but trouble I'll make your money double Cook me in baking soda I'll turn your Hooprock into a new Range Rover I'll pay all your bills and fill your 'frigerator Feed your family, turn your man into a hater Put me in your doorpanels or your stashbox Put me in your Nik's, Timbs or Reeboks If you cop three and a half you hustlin' backwards Cop a hundred grams, you movin' forwards You tryin' to move more birds ...In PA all day, on the corner of Third (50 Cent) You can take me out the 'hood, but can't take the 'hood out me (what?) 'Cause I'm ghetto, I'm ghetto Picture me polishin' pistols, I'm comin' to get you The shells hit you, you screamin' Think I'm playin'? I mean it Man, I done bought all these pistols Lets get it poppin' Start wavin' my emboies shell cases get the droppin' (C'mon) Like if it's down the corner, I got too much pride to hide I'm outside, gun in my pocket just stunnin' I'm stoppin' I'm dyin' to pop it, I'm young and I'm restless, you know my contestants As the world turns, there's lessons to be learned Count all my blessin's, clean up my weapons I'm ready for war, the strong survive, the weak will parish I told you before, hoes they compliment me now like "50 nice chain" Bellagio, twenty grand in chips at a dice game Burn out, can't stop gotta watch MTV, BET Nigga you see me! I wonder if you mad, 'cause I'm doin' good or 'cause niggas feelin' me more than you in your own 'hood And it hurts 'cause you love 'em and they don't love you back 'cause they know you just rappin' and you don't bust a gat You pussy Yeah, explain it to niggas in your hood nigga They know you fuckin' frontin' nigga Talkin' like gangstas on a record, I see you nigga Niggas know me nigga, ask around in my 'hood nigga Read the "Daily News" nigga you see them talkin' about me nigga I'm in the middle of all kinds of shit Pussy, lets get it poppin' G-G-Unit, G-G-Unit, G-G-G-Unit, G-G-G-G-G-G-Unit, G-Unit! |
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from 50 Cent - The New Breed [single] (2005)
Chorus: Brooklyn)
I still be riding through the 'hood Brooklyn to Compton, it's all good From Southside Queens to Inglewood We representin' like we should (50 Cent) I'm hot boy, I told you before Got that Benz and that Hummer off the showroom floor I know you hate it when I pop up, wrist all rocked up In The 'hood, empty niggas locked up, they rats all knocked up Baby after baby, the 'hood is crazy Niggas'll set you up and wet you up, trust me they shady Got a pet bulldog, I keep under my linen It don't bark, they spark when the revolver spinnin' We winnin' (Chorus) (50 Cent) Hold up, hold up, get a good look at my rims God damn, look at them twenty-fours diamonds spin Now the D's, they harass me in the 'hood a few times, niggas try to blast me in the 'hood Fuck it's all good Catch me in the coupe - on the lean Wit' needles and samples and diesels for the fiends The money stay on my mind, so I stay on the grind Plus niggas like to stun, so I stay wit' my nine I ain't the type nigga that be out, runnin' his mouth Talkin' gangsta and shit, with my gun in the house Now homie, you better get to know me better Before you be bleedin' pints of blood into Iceberg sweater When the tails come flyin' up out the beretta You gon' feel like it's yo' fault and say "Man I knew better" Look dogg, I don't play that shit I pull that thing out I'ma spray that shit That how I get down (Brooklyn) Brooklyn she's so sick in the hood Got these fat bitches get the spit in the hood 'Cause I throw diamonds, shot that fifth in the hood That's what you get for talkin' all that shit in the hood Yeah I'm still a minor, remember this Everything Brooklyn choppy broads still behind ya Brooklyn to Compton it's all good Get robbed, get shot, shit is poppin' in the hood (Chorus) - 2X |
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from G-Unit - G Unit - Stunt 101 [single] (2003)
Yea, uh huh, Stunt 101, yeah
(Chorus)(50 Cent) I teach you how to stunt My wrist stay rocked My T.V's pop up in the maybach Beennnnz I teach you how to stunt You can see my Bentley G.T. got so great endz I teach you how to stunt My neck stay blingin, my whip stay gleamin, im shinin mannn I teach you how to stunt I see you schemin, nigga keep on dreamin, Ill hurt you mannn (Verse 1)(50 Cent) 7 Series BM, 6 Series Benz 24 inches, Giovanni rimz All one, one wheel, when I want one of them Ma, that boy I been actin a fool, thats him They say I changed man, I'm gettin paper, Im flashy They like me better when Im fucked up and ashy My royalty checks the rebirth to Liberace Stunt so hard, everybody gotta watch me And I dont really care, if it's platinum or white gold Long as it's VS, BLING!, look at that light show In the hood they say 50 man, your sneaker look right yo Just cant believe Reebok did a deal with a psycho Banks is a sure thing, yall niggaz might blow Im finna drop that, so i suggest you lay low Buck, he from Cash, still tend a ki nigga He gettin em ten a piece, save ten fo me nigga (Chorus) (Verse 2)(Lloyd Banks) I've been sensin a lot of tension now that I'm rappin, but the kids used to look up to you, what happened? Me on the contrary, hand covered with Platinum Different colour Coupes but I'm in love with the black one. On point, cause you get R.I.P.s when slackin so the stash box big enough to squeeze the mac, and yeah I'm fairly new but I demand some respect cause i already wear your advance on my neck I'm fresh of the jet then i breeze to the beaches Blue yankee fitted, G-Unit Sneakers Already figured out what to do with all my features decorate the basement, full of street sweepers. When it comes to stuntin' there ain't nothin' you can teach us, We're in a different time zone, your records don't reach us, naw I ain't here to save the world, just roll up a blunt come with me out front, I'll teach you how to stunt! (Chorus) (Verse 3)(Young Buck) The kid's so icy, you dont have to like me In a throwback jersey, with the throwback Nike's I know you probably seen me with Cash Money from back in the days The only thing changed, is the numbers on the Range I bought me an Old School, and blew out the brains The Roc the Mic tour, I threw off my chain My Spreewell's spinnin man, Im doin my thing And whoadie now in trouble now, its you in the game Come on now, we all know gold is gettin old The ice in my teeth keep the Cristal cold G-Unit homie, actin like ya'll dont know Look - I cant even walk through the mall no more I just pull up, get out, and get all the hoes They never seen doors let up on a car before Dont be mad at me dawg, it's all I know Is how to show these fougaisies how its sposed to go (Chorus) |
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from G-Unit - G Unit - Stunt 101 [single] (2003)
Woo wooo
Haha G unit! We got those semi automatics And we got them revolvers We those niggaz that you should get at If you got a problem When those hollow tips hit 'em Man that should solve 'em We got the lugers with rugers and m1s and they all for sale Got that 9mm got that 10mm Got that little duece duece and they all for sale Got that old trey pound Got that new fore pound Nigga use once or twice and they all for sale [Verse One] I'm the reason those things in my hood go BANG I got that trey duece I call that, my nigga behave 16 gage in case these niggaz wanna get crazy When a sawed off Hit your body parts they fall off You get hit in the leg Man you can't even crawl off When that AK switch that automatic to spray Everybody out this bitch could get hit with a stray I got silences and scoops Military issue pistols holla at me Whatever you need homie I can get you Nickname rubber grips hollow tips extra clips You dont want your shit to jam Better buy a cleaning kit Teflon, kevlar, need to wrap it round your chest You pop off they pop back and you get left a bloody mess Mac 11 mac 10 time for some action Dump a clip out this bitch and see how niggaz act then Got guns and ammo they all for sale Clips included you're responsible for your bail We got those semi automatics And we got those revolvers We that niggaz that you should get at If you got a problem When those hollow tips hit 'em Man that should solve 'em We got the lugers with rugers and m1s and they all for sale Got that 9mm got that 10mm Got that little duece duece and they all for sale Got that old trey pound Got that new fore pound Nigga use once or twice and they all for sale G stand for GANGSTER UNIT stand for U Niggaz in trouble Better lock and load on the double G Unit!! [Verse Two] Fresh out the box 40 cali glock, calico 20 shot Streetsweepers clear the block Im that n*gga n*ggaz call when those shots pop Take 'em to my grandmoms basement Show 'em what I got, look I got three 380s a tech and two m1's Ice came through on some shit and bought him one Them young boys from the projects crazy He was kissing on the toast and saying thats my baby Buck came through saying "50 show me some love" Sold him a dub dub something he can sneak in the club Gave him some shells for that trey 8 snub He gave me some bud I gave him a pound, gave me a hug Love, its love I take it back to the NWA days Fuck Jay my CD's raise the crime rate in the Troy state Got some rugers, some sigs, some colts My nigga for real. Holla at the kid for real We got those semi automatics And we got those revolvers We that niggaz that you should get at If you got a problem When those hollow tips hit 'em Man that should solve 'em We got the lugers with rugers and m1s and they all for sale Got that 9mm got that 10mm Got that little duece duece and they all for sale Got that old trey pound Got that new fore pound Nigga use once or twice and they all for sale |
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from G-Unit - G Unit - Stunt 101 [single] (2003) | |||||
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from G-Unit - G Unit - Stunt 101 [single] (2003)
Yea, uh huh, Stunt 101, yeah
(Chorus)(50 Cent) I teach you how to stunt My wrist stay rocked My T.V's pop up in the maybach Beennnnz I teach you how to stunt You can see my Bentley G.T. got so great endz I teach you how to stunt My neck stay blingin, my whip stay gleamin, im shinin mannn I teach you how to stunt I see you schemin, nigga keep on dreamin, Ill hurt you mannn (Verse 1)(50 Cent) 7 Series BM, 6 Series Benz 24 inches, Giovanni rimz All one, one wheel, when I want one of them Ma, that boy I been actin a fool, thats him They say I changed man, I'm gettin paper, Im flashy They like me better when Im fucked up and ashy My royalty checks the rebirth to Liberace Stunt so hard, everybody gotta watch me And I dont really care, if it's platinum or white gold Long as it's VS, BLING!, look at that light show In the hood they say 50 man, your sneaker look right yo Just cant believe Reebok did a deal with a psycho Banks is a sure thing, yall niggaz might blow Im finna drop that, so i suggest you lay low Buck, he from Cash, still tend a ki nigga He gettin em ten a piece, save ten fo me nigga (Chorus) (Verse 2)(Lloyd Banks) I've been sensin a lot of tension now that I'm rappin, but the kids used to look up to you, what happened? Me on the contrary, hand covered with Platinum Different colour Coupes but I'm in love with the black one. On point, cause you get R.I.P.s when slackin so the stash box big enough to squeeze the mac, and yeah I'm fairly new but I demand some respect cause i already wear your advance on my neck I'm fresh of the jet then i breeze to the beaches Blue yankee fitted, G-Unit Sneakers Already figured out what to do with all my features decorate the basement, full of street sweepers. When it comes to stuntin' there ain't nothin' you can teach us, We're in a different time zone, your records don't reach us, naw I ain't here to save the world, just roll up a blunt come with me out front, I'll teach you how to stunt! (Chorus) (Verse 3)(Young Buck) The kid's so icy, you dont have to like me In a throwback jersey, with the throwback Nike's I know you probably seen me with Cash Money from back in the days The only thing changed, is the numbers on the Range I bought me an Old School, and blew out the brains The Roc the Mic tour, I threw off my chain My Spreewell's spinnin man, Im doin my thing And whoadie now in trouble now, its you in the game Come on now, we all know gold is gettin old The ice in my teeth keep the Cristal cold G-Unit homie, actin like ya'll dont know Look - I cant even walk through the mall no more I just pull up, get out, and get all the hoes They never seen doors let up on a car before Dont be mad at me dawg, it's all I know Is how to show these fougaisies how its sposed to go (Chorus) |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
New York City...
You are now rockin with 50 cent.. Are you ready? (Gun click) I said are you ready? See you wit me nigga? DROP DEAD. (mumbles:) Paid for a hooptie but I wanted a drop "G UNIT" "Somthin new" I'm not that nigga in your video I'm not a trick I don't love the hoes and Niggaz know, I be on the low but I miss my dawg and I twist my drawer I'm not that nigga that you think you know I walk around with a big fo-fo You front on me I'm gone get at your dawg I be at rite are your crib, right at your door What up 50? Coming up I ain't have much, but I wanted alot I had paper for a hoopty but I wanted a drop so you know, I had make somthing outta nothin Like turn an empty spot into a crack spot pumpin im so hard at nine-teen I bought a benz, I did. The older niggaz really wasn't feelin the kid Try to find where I live so they could run in my crib but you can't hustle a hustler I peeped it and slid Back then, Niggaz used to call me bo At six months I told them "Million go tops on Gar-bo" Country came around, hes into clappin country left, same shit started happening Like "He shot rob for some ends, rob shot joe for some skins, Cory shot drew and we was friends, money turned boys into men The cycle never changes, shit just starts again.. "naw nigga, ain't nuthin changed nigga, yea I've been gone for a minute, but I'm BACK!" (damn 50 it's good to see you back in the hood) you see my cherry red SL nigga I'm doin good sometimes I can't find the words to say how I feel so, I take a quote from menace "LOOK AT THE WHEELS!!" I'm addicted to stuntin, now that I'm holdin something, I got a trunk full of guns from VA to ? (oh will you let me hold something?) nigga you high or something? I don't play games I'm bout my money nigga buy something! I got a few 5ths, I got a few 9's, Here nigga take one... "yea, don't ever say I don't do nothing for you nigga, you kno don't say I didn't look out for you. KnowhatImean? But make sure nigga that you go catch some jokes when you come back you gonna have my paper for that thang thang knowhatI'msayin? I don't want it back, don't try to use it then give it back to me Cuz I ya'll niggaz now, runnin around sayin "50 getting all this rap money and he won't help us" ha ha... Sit tight nigga I'm comin! You know? New shit!!! All the shit I put out on the mix tapes is for the mix tapes I got a million... ... OH MY GOD!! My shit is so hot right now I'm in the zone |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
Niggas screw they face up at me
On some real shit son they don't want beef I cock that, aim that shit out the window spray till there ain't a shell left in my heat Ya niggas better lay down, yea i mean stay down Get hit wit 8 round - ya ass ain't gonna make it You niggas'll get laid out, yuh blood and ya brains out Have ya on the concrete shiverin' and shakin' ... I'm from Southside motherf**ker Where gats explode If you feel like ya on fire, boy Drop and roll Niggas'll eatcha ass up 'til yuh heart turn cold Now you could be a victim or you can lock and load Party jumpin, shorty bouncin that ass I wanna f**k - Gimme a second, Ima holla I'ma see whats up I got my razor in my hand My pistol in trunk Carve ya ass up nicely if ya play me like a punk... [Hook] In my hoooooood Niggas got love for me But I don't go nowhere without my strap In my hoooooood A little dro, a lil hennessey A nigga juz don't kno how to act In my hoooooood Niggas is grimey I stay on point I hold to my gat In my hoooooood Niggas might buck at me So I keep somethin around to buck back In my hoooooood I dont trust a motherf**kin soul When the D's come they fold On my first case they told Where I'm from it ain't safe to have more than a eighth Niggas'll come to ya place, put a gun in ya face Tell ya open the safe, as ya heart start to race 'cause a robbery can turn into a homo-case Cooperate a doc'll have to operate B'cause I pop you run a light than pop at jake Trust me son, niggas'll go hard for they cake These thirsty niggas are lurkin You have to catch em and merk em I'm observant in my hood These niggas be dummin Shots go off at the dice game All you see is them runnin That make it harder and harder to pump on the block I'm a hustler, how the f**k am supposed to eat when its hot [Hook] In my hoooooood Niggas got love for me But I don't go nowhere without my strap In my hoooooood A little dro, a lil hennessey A nigga juz don't kno how to act In my hoooooood Niggas is grimey I stay on point I hold to my gat In my hoooooood Niggas might buck at me So I keep somethin around to buck back In my hoooooood The house party off the hook Until them shots go off Well thats what u get for stuntin on my block, show off Uh, you shit outta luck if niggas catch you slippin Crack money slow, so you know niggas is trippin Shorty down there on that Queens track Takin a whippin Shit, b!tch get outta pocket - She needs some discipline Peep the feins shootin diesel in his arm in the alley Look at the chrome spinners spinnin on that black Denali The grimey niggas where I'm from don't wanna see you chipped up You shine they gone jux you about to shoot ya whip up It ain't good to do good in my hood Blaaow ... You know not to do good now [Hook] In my hoooooood Niggas got love for me But I don't go nowhere without my strap In my hoooooood A little dro, a lil hennessey A nigga juz don't kno how to act In my hoooooood Niggas is grimey I stay on point I hold to my gat In my hoooooood Niggas might buck at me So I keep somethin around to buck back In my hoooooood |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
(Intro)
This is 50 (Chorus) I don't know what you take me for I really don't play that shit I ain't got to get you hit I get out myself and spray that shit (Verse 1) I got a itchy itchy trigger finger, nigga its a killa in me not to spray that shit I got enough ammo shots to blow I up a hole in every mothaf**ka out this bitch I unload then reload, when you get hit I supposed you gon' be strong enough to take this shit I'm in the hood ridin' round with a chrome fo' pound, can you see thru the windows see tints I do dirt, the gat bussa, get to kickin' up dust, 'fore the jakes come around here kid niggas get knocked if they start askin' question, my name end up in all types of shit I be a gangsta, nigga till I die fo' sho', whether I'm poor or I'm filthy rich Now what you know about movin' that Peruvian flake for that cake, I get rid of them bricks (Chorus x2) I don't know what you take me for I really don't play that shit I ain't got to get you hit I get out myself and spray that shit (Verse 2) Man I gotta have shoes, you know chrome 22's, everytime I get a brand new whip I rolled around in a 5, till my money got right, then I went back and got that six I'm in a big white Benz, on a hot sunny day, I call up the milk truck and shit I have ya hoe, eyeballin' at the light, damn pimpin', you should take time to check that bitch You'l find me ridin through the hood, actin' like its all good, but I'm lookin' for a ??? and shit In the middle of the night, you can turn on ya lights, I mean my niggas in ya crib nigga holla if there's a problem, and your niggas got drama, I got burners for sell and shit Got the macs, got the nines, got them tecks all the time, holo-tips and the extra clips (Chorus x2) I don't know what you take me for I really don't play that shit I ain't got to get you hit I get out myself and spray that shit (Bridge) Man I'm tired of tellin' niggas over and over everything about me be gangsta Man I'm tired of tellin' niggas over and over I won't hesitate to pop or shank ya Man I'm tired of tellin' niggas over and over they can hustle and I'm in your shit Man I'm tired of tellin' niggas over and over you don't listen you gon' get ya ass hit (Outro) This is 50 Yeah nigga cherish me Like the water you drink Like the air you breathe You need me to live Yeah |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
[Intro - 50 Cent]
Ahh man You know where the niggas be at right? Take me to 'em [Chorus- 50 Cent] All through the hood, I keep hearin' niggas sayin' I'm supposed to die tonight niggas come put a hit out and they talkin' like the shit okay I'm down to ride tonight We rollin, whip stolen, AK loaded I'm down to ride tonight We smokin', straight locin', locked and loaded Somebody gon' die tonight [Verse 1 - 50 Cent] This is nothin' new, I been in the position before Grandma crib, niggas outside of her door Different day, same shit, old mac, new clip Thirty two hollow tips, gloves, no rubber grip I'm a boss, but niggas never show no respect I catch 'em slippin', I have 'em tongue kissin' my tec Wanna come test me, pussy boy don't try Police responds, never fast enough, to satisfy Don't be stupid, find out who you fuckin' wit son 'Fore we find out where ya bitch gets her hair and nails done Its elementary, life is but a dream You know row, row ya boat, your blood forms a stream After you get hit, you shoulda thought about the shit You took that paper, you take a life or ya life get took bitch Sometimes, I sit and look at life from a different angle Don't know if I'm God's child or I'm Satan's angel [Chorus - 50 Cent] All through the hood, I keep hearin' niggas sayin' I'm supposed to die tonight niggas come put a hit out and they talkin' like the shit okay I'm down to ride tonight We rollin, whip stolen, AK loaded I'm down to ride tonight We smokin', straight locin', locked and loaded Somebody gon' die tonight [Verse 2 - 50 Cent] In 2002, if you asked me to make a wish I simply woulda wished that my music would be a hit Big said damn, niggas wanna stick me for my paper And pray for my downfall, I understand it all But me, I'm a little more flashy a nigga So chances are, I'ma have to blast me a nigga I'm on that keflon vest shit, that wild wild west shit And eighty one 1 carrot stones in my necklace I shine so hard, I make mothafuckas wanna kill me Every projects and every hood I go, they feel me Know it sounds like rap, but this shit is real B I don't talk that rich shit, but nigga I'm filthy When I come out to play, had my mom been with me You could bet your bottom dollar that revolver with me Homeboy, frontin' on me will shorten your life span Hold the mic with my left, the knife in my right hand [Chorus - 50 Cent] All through the hood, I keep hearin' niggas sayin' I'm supposed to die tonight niggas come put a hit out and they talkin' like the shit okay I'm down to ride tonight We rollin, whip stolen, AK loaded I'm down to ride tonight We smokin', straight locin', locked and loaded Somebody gon' die tonight |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
50 Cent - Piggy Bank Lyrics
[Chorus x2- 50 Cent] Clickity clank clickity clank The money goes into my piggy bank [Bridge- 50 Cent] I'll get atcha, my knife cuts ya skin I'll get atcha, blow shots at ya man I'll get atcha, Tupac don't pretend I'll get atcha, I'll put that to an end [Verse 1- 50 Cent] That shit is oh, don't be screamin' get at me dawg Have you runnin' for ya life when I match ya boy I get to wavin' that semi, like its legal A lil nigga hurt his arm lettin' off that eagle You know me, black on black bentley, big ol' black nine I'll clap your monkey ass, get black on black crime Big ol' chrome rims, clean you know why I shine C'mon man, you know how I shine I'm in the hood, in the drop, Teflon vinyl top Got a hundred guns, a hundred clips, why I don't hear no shots That fat nigga thought Lean Back was "In Da Club" My shit sold 11 mill, his shit was a dud Jada don't fuck with me if you wanna eat Cause I'll do your lil ass like Jay did Mobb Deep Yeah homie, in New York, niggas like your vocals But thats only New York dawg, your ass is local [Chorus x2- 50 Cent] Clickity clank clickity clank The money goes into my piggy bank [Bridge- 50 Cent] Yeah yeah, get more money, more money Yeah yeah yeah, get more money, more money Yeah yeah yeah, get more money, more money Yeah yeah yeah, get more money, more money Yeah [Verse 2- 50 Cent] Banks shit sells, Buck shit sells, Game shit sells I'm rich as hell, Shyne poppin' off his mouth from a cell He don't want it with me, he in PC I can have a nigga run up on him with a shank For just a few pennies out my piggy bank Yayo, bring the condoms, I'm in room 203 Freak bitch look like Kim before the surgeory Its an emergency, a Michael Jackson see Looked at a picture and said she looks like me Kelis said her milkshake brings all the boys to the yard Then Nas went and tattooed the bitch on his arm I mean that way out in Cali, niggas know these guns First thing they say about you, is you a sucker for love This is chess, not checkers, these are warning shots After your next move I'll give you what I got [Chorus x2- 50 Cent] Clickity clank clickity clank The money goes into my piggy bank [Bridge- 50 Cent] Yeah yeah, get more money, more money Yeah yeah yeah, get more money, more money Yeah yeah yeah, get more money, more money Yeah yeah yeah, get more money, more money Yeah [Bridge- 50 Cent] I'll get atcha, I'll punch out your grill I'll get atcha, let off that blue steal I'll get atcha, nigga I'm for real I'll get atcha, you'll get your ass killed [Outro- 50 Cent] Yeah Yeah Hahahaha Ya'll niggas gotta do somethin' now man All that shoot 'em up shit ya'll be talkin' You gotta do somethin' baby I mean, I mean c'mon man everybody's listenin' nigga everybody's listenin' Hahahaha I know you ain't gon' just let 50 do you like that I mean damn rep your hood nigga nigga you hard right? Pop off Yayo get mobs niggas on the phone And tell the niggas I said grip up niggas got a green light on these monkies Hahahaha |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
feat. Mobb Deep
[Intro: Havoc] (50 Cent) It's the Infamous Mobb, M-O-B-B (Ha Ha) We can't be touched nigga can't you see (G-Unit!!!) [50 Cent]: You do you man cause me I'm 'gon do my thang (You know I do my thang) I'm a get my drink on and party like it's ok [Verse 1: 50 Cent] Trust me man it's ok bounce with me in slow mo When they hear the kid in the house it's like oh no 50 got 'em locin again, they open again Got 'em sippin on that juice and gin You could find me in the background burnin that backwood Stylin and stuntin doin my two step frontin Now I'm a tell you What Em told me homey Just lose the parental discretion's advised this is grown folk music Now blend in with me, as I proceed to break it down It's always off the chain man when I'm around I play the block bumpin, it was all for the dough I get the club jumpin, cause I'm sick with flow You know it's sold out, like wherever I go I jam packed the show man that's fo' sho' I got the info you already know Man I get it poppin in the club everybody show me love let's go [Chorus: 50 Cent] You, know, I, got, what it takes to make the club go outta control Quit playin turn the music up a little bit, bounce with me now shorty let's get into it You, know, I, got, what it takes to make the club go outta control Quit playin turn the music up a little bit, bounce with me now homey let's get into it [Verse 2: Havoc] You wanna search me than search me but hurry up cause I'm thirsty I need that, grind in my system P, on my side twistin In club today for the chick to go both, ways let me see that ID just for proof With the drink till the burn is gone, hit the dancefloor like a scene from soft porn Before it pop, make me sign a disclaimer Try to get me on some pop shit these chicks will frame ya But, in any event, keep fuckin with 50 it make cents Cents, into them dollars, the hoes wanna holla But you lookin at a nigga that done came from the squalla Now my buddy so gone I can pop ya collar Now follow same nothin let me see you swallow In my crib got the co-ed back the new problem In the club feed them liquor of the wise I'm starvin So much green gettin twisted like Botanical Garden, let's go [Chorus: 50 Cent] You, know, I, got, what it takes to make the club go outta control Quit playin turn the music up a little bit, bounce with me now shorty let's get into it You, know, I, got, what it takes to make the club go outta control Quit playin turn the music up a little bit, bounce with me now homey let's get into it [Verse 3: Prodigy] You already know how it go I bang I shine I play I stay I'm goin for mine I'm young I'm black I'm rich and yes I'm ghetto than the motherfuckin project steps I'm cool I'm calm you lookin real stressed I'm strapped I'm armed kid hold your head I'm known for Gat poppin, when I got problems I don't run, I just gun you all up But we ain't come here to start no drama We just lookin for our future baby mamas With money with face with style and body I cook I clean I swear that mami Just as long as you don't go off and tell nobody I go down low, I'm lyin I'm tryin my best to let you know Sugar pop get at P The Doc beat make it easy to get 'em in the bed sheets [Chorus: 50 Cent] You, know, I, got, what it takes to make the club go outta control Quit playin turn the music up a little bit, bounce with me now shorty let's get into it You, know, I, got, what it takes to make the club go outta control Quit playin turn the music up a little bit, bounce with me now homey let's get into it |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
Artist: 50 Cent
Song: Get In My Car [Intro] Uhhhhh Yeah Uhhhhh Yeah [Verse 1] I'm a straight guerilla with it, cold hearted killa wit it Any nigga gettin' outta line can get it I make it hot, motherf**kers freeze up when I come through Mac-10, thirty two shot clip in my snorkel I might smile and say whats up but I don't f**k with you niggaz My rap money slow up, I'll run up on you niggaz I'm on the edge, I'm just waitin' on a nigga to push me Put my hand on my strap, what you lookin' at pussy We ain't buddies, we ain't partners and we damn sure ain't friends So much chrome on my Benz, you see ya face in my rims If your bitch wanna roll, I'ma let her get in I don't play but I'm a playa till the motherf**kin' end {*gunshots*} [Chorus: repeat 2X] I got no pickup lines I stay on the grind I tell the hoes all the time Bitch get in my car (Bitch get in) I got my 64, ridin' on Dayton spokes And when I open that do' Bitch get in my car [Verse 2] Don't tell me you don't know that, uhh I'm the shyiiit Now you better watch ya girl mayn, I leave with ya bitch I ain't ?? these hoes, man I'm bout my paper If your bitch really bout it nigga I'm gon' take her Backseat of my jeep, f**k till I f**k up her make up Take her to the Diamond District, introduce her to Jacob Tell her if she like me she should keep me icey My game f**k with a bitch brain till she think she wifey Spent a life savings in a day, cause she likes me Committment for me, uhh nah not likely One hour, Vivica, I thought I was onto somethin' But then the next week, nah man it was nothin' {*gunshots*} [Chorus] [Verse 3] Look into the windows of my soul, the eyes never lie They blood shot red, its gaunja in my system, I'm high First its pain when you lust for love, then its smooth and calm Feel the rush, like a needles in your arm Its a cold world baby girl, lovin' me is not enough Find out when you f**kin' broke, love won't get you on the bus Man you should see the pretty bitches that be sexin' me They suck cock that make 'em hot, I just let 'em stand next to me Hundred percent thug, freak too, I'll taste your love 69's the position, your mouths full baby huhhhh? My conversations so deep, I get in your head Next thing you know, you yawnin', turnin' over and I'm in the bed {*gunshots8} [Chorus] [Outro] Hahaha Quit playin' bitch get it You know you wanna ride with a nigga 50 Cent G-G-G-G-G-Unit |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
Intro)
Yeah I'm Tryin to catch me sumthin I'ma catch you sumthin (Chorus) nigga that watch is nice that's what you bought for me that chain is nice that's what you bought for me them earrings is nice That's what you bought for me? Take that shit off, move I'll break you off properly I get mine the fast way, ski mask way Make money Make money, money, money nigga if you ask me It's the only way Take money Take money, money, money (Verse 1) You wanna spray at me? Go head The last nigga that tried Got hit, keeled over, and bled 'til he died Ya little sister callin you stupid Reason why? Her and ya momma in the livin room now hog-tied I came up wit two new ways to get rich I cant wait Got a brand new cig and that old thirty eight I be scheming to put a lil' bread on my plate Watchin Dre serve skunk through the hole in the gate I stick a nigga for his shine sell em' back the next day You thought I really wanted your pussy, bitch please This is stash house, jack pot, leave her them keys My black g-unit hoody just reaked of marijuana Cocaine coming out my pores in the summer Im serious man I'm so sincere This the flow right here that f**ked up Jeffery's career Make money, take money Yeah nigga yeah (Chorus) nigga that watch is nice that's what you bought for me that chain is nice that's what you bought for me them earrings is nice That's what you bought for me? Take that shit off, move I'll break you off properly I get mine the fast way, ski mask way Make money Make money, money, money nigga if you ask me It's the only way Take money Take money, money, money (Verse 2) Whos dat peepin in my window Wow The feds on me now They know when im sleeping They know when im wake I know they got my phone taped im screamin f**k jake Im tryin to stay out them pens, so I switch states Bad news V-A now that sounds great I see niggas wit that ice on, rims shined up This towns one big pussy waitin to get f**ked I holla at A-I peoples to get gats They charged me 500 a piece for two macs Then im back doin me Im back out on a spree Catch me n' niggas slippin out pumpin dat D Give me a lil' crew I'll have em' pumpin for me The more product I take the more paper we see Change my name in N-Y they don't know where I be Yeah a nigga doin dirt but a nigga low key (Chorus) nigga that watch is nice that's what you bought for me that chain is nice that's what you bought for me them earrings is nice That's what you bought for me? Take that shit off, move I'll break you off properly I get mine the fast way, ski mask way Make money Make money, money, money nigga if you ask me It's the only way Take money Take money, money, money |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
50 Cent - Ryder Music Lyrics
[Intro] Yeah Yeah we can ride to this Just lay back, crew [Verse 1] Here's a taste of my life, its bitter and sweet I put my heart out to the sounds of the drums and the beat I put my life on the line when I'm out on the street Put my teflon on and roll with my heat I keep my circle nice and small, I don't f**k with these clown niggas In a race for the cheese, I run laps around niggas Soon as I step on stage, the crowd applauds Soon as my sneaker wear in stores, Reebok stocks sore I ain't gotta say I'm a boss, niggas can tell The east coast crib, the size of a small hotel The shit journalist write about me, get me confused Have me feelin' like the heavy weight champ when he lose I read somewhere, I'm homophobic shiiit Go through the hood, there's mad niggas on my dick Now we can get hostile or we can do this smooth T&T around, I can still make blow move [Chorus x2] This is what you call ryder music All the gangstas are ridin' to it Let's roll, I can show ya how we do it When we ride to that ryder music (let's go) [Let's go] [Verse 2] Last year, I woke up, a good look, damn it feels good On the low, I done f**ked like half of Hollywood Had your favorite actress from your favorite shows In my favorite position, you know how it goes In my Bentley bumpin' Prince shit "This is When Thugs Cry" This is what it sounds like when hollow tip slugs fly Homie, this is somethin' you can ride and smoke to Stay on point, cause niggas will ride and smoke you Jealousy's for women, but some niggas is bitch made They make you wanna run across they head wit a switch blade They point their finger at me, sayin' I'm bug My flows crack you listen, your f**kin' brains on drugs Look, ice drippin' on my neck, hands grippin' on the tec Fool trippin' through the set, you can get ya ass whipped Cards missin' out my deck, screws loose show respect You try to come at me kid, your ass better come correct [Chorus x2] This is what you call ryder music All the gangstas are ridin' to it Let's roll, I can show ya how we do it When we ride to that ryder music (let's go) [Let's go] [Verse 3] My mama gave birth to a winner, I gotta win Pray to Lord, forgive me for my sins Still thuggin', cruisin', rims gleamin' Like the stones on my wrist Zonin', guess this is how it feels to be rich Homie, you hustlin' backwards if you chasin' a bitch Stupid, chase the paper, they come with the shit I'm fallin', in love with success Entrepeneure, kinda sewer, I maneuver the best Rowin', ruger on my lap, rubber grip on the handle Stunt I'll have ya homies burn a rest in peace candle As wise men speak, I listen and learn A man dies, a baby's born, my niggas the world turns Rappers, I make 'em sick when I say I'm the shit They mistake my confidance for arrogance, they hate on the kid In '99, I had a vision and made a decision Bein' broke is against my religion, now picked up [Chorus x2] This is what you call ryder music All the gangstas are ridin' to it Let's roll, I can show ya how we do it When we ride to that ryder music (let's go) [Let's go] |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005) | |||||
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
Ya'll niggas know (wut wut ya'll niggas know what I'm about)
Ya'll niggas know, frontin' with my do' when the guns come out [Verse 1] I do this all the time, stuck with a little shine Walk with a little nine, case I get in a bind They say I'm f**kin' crazy, they think I'm out my mind Cause I'm down to bust a nigga head all the time Now you know the hoes, they know how I roll In that new Rolls with the suicide doors 22 inch chrome, a nigga money low You try to touch me, I put out ya get ya brains blown You go against the grain, pussy and you on ya own You right there in my zone, welcome to the terridome The ice blowin' my chain, blood blow in my veins Blue still in the range, I'm doin' my thang The semi auto spray, run if you get away I'll find your whereabouts and clap at you another day nigga play with the bread, get a hole in ya head You touch a dime of mine thug and your ass dead [Chorus x2] Ya'll niggas know (wut wut ya'll niggas know what I'm about) Ya'll niggas know, frontin' with my do' when the guns come out [Verse 2] In the hood, hoopty, hate low, niggas don't know I'm around Hop out, hit 'em up, lay my murder game down You see me in ya projects, 187's in progress Hard niggas finna' soften up when that lead touch 'em You cut 'em once and keep fight, f**k it just keep cuttin' em Its real killa instinct, kill or be killed Trust me, you don't wanna feel how hollow tips feel F**k around and get ya cap peeled nigga you know the drill, Brownsville Flat bush, ground heights, Brooklyn Zoo Feed the wolves, they eat the food And the hand that feed em too nigga welcome to the jungle, New York New York Gangstas use sign language and let their guns talk I'm cool with some bloods, I'm cool with some crippes I'm cool but if there's a problem, nigga I got extra clips I don't know karate, but I split the bricks I don't love 'em loverboy, we the shit bitch [Chorus x2] Ya'll niggas know (wut wut ya'll niggas know what I'm about) Ya'll niggas know, frontin' with my do' when the guns come out [Verse 3] I'll come through and touch ya, walk out then cut ya In case your dumbass wanna tussle AR-15, co-exist to make the shell case muffle Scope, infrared run you're still dead Hit your calf, hit your ass, hit ya back, then your head Contract killa, murder for the scrilla Search, find a nigga, run up behind a nigga Shoot car windows out to flatline a nigga Gun pop, heart stop, homie this is heavy You on your way to meet your maker, nigga are you ready No exception to the rule, death is promised Plus I just bought my niggas new macs and llamas Got respect for human life but will accomadate you. One phone call and niggas will exterminate you No future f**kin' with me, there's no tomorrow niggas'll run up on you tonight and hit you wit hollows [Chorus x2] Ya'll niggas know (wut wut ya'll niggas know what I'm about) Ya'll niggas know, frontin' with my do' when the guns come out |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
[Intro]
Hahaha I told niggas not to shoot dice with me Look at this stack I got money I got money Hahaha [50 Cent] Aww nigga don't trip I'll kill ya if you f**k with my grip I won't hesitate to let off a clip Aww nigga don't trip You gon' make me get on some shit Run up on you quick What up, you're whipped Aww nigga don't trip You gon' get ya monkey ass hit Run in ya whip tryna f**k with my clique Aww nigga don't trip Case you didn't know who this is Its 50 Cent bitch, G-Unit Aww nigga don't trip [Verse 1- 50 Cent] I come through your hood, stuntin' in my yellow lam murcielago top down, nigga damn I'm the biggest crook from New York since son of Sam Cruisin', bumpin' Bugz shit, ruger in my hand Thinkin' the east ain't enough, its time to expand I plan to head out west and plant my feet down A nigga big as King Kong in the street now I do a lil house shoppin', and buy me a crib Its palm trees and pretty bitches out in Cali kid I touched the Hollywood paper, go and shoot me some flicks Have some supermodel bitches come and suck on some dick My mom turn in her grave if I married a white chick But baby'll suck the chrome off the Chevy and shit niggas be wearin' fake signs, I'm rockin' a lil charm Thirty karrots on the pinky, kiss the ring on the Don Crack open that Cali bud, stuff the weight in the bomb [Chorus- 50 Cent] nigga you hustle, but me I hustle harder I got what you need, them trees, that heart, that powder My niggas with gee packs, devour on the hour They shoot when I say shoot, so I'm in the position of power You f**k around if you wanna [Verse 2- 50 Cent] Where I'm from, you learn to blend in, or get touched I don't need niggas for support, I don't walk with a crutch niggas know my stage, they don't f**k with me son You got an appetite for hollow-tips, I'll feed you my gun This is that ferrari F-50, shit its real layed back Type shit you recline to in the Maybach I got two suiters now, on the run from the fuzz You get the same shit for ten bodies, you get for one 'cause I live life in the fast lane, 100 miles an hour, chrome and some wood grain You know a nigga still really tryna move cane Make a lil extra money on the side mayn I ain't playin', I'm up early with the birds word Puttin' that work in, pirrellis on the Porsche chirpin'(I'm kaing movies) I got a hundred mill from music, a hundred grand from crack Goin' to see my jeweler, so I can blow a stack [Chorus- 50 Cent] nigga you hustle, but me I hustle harder I got what you need, them trees, that heart, that powder My niggas with gee packs, devour on the hour They shoot when I say shoot, so I'm in the position of power You f**k around if you wanna |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
[Chorus]
God gave me style God gave me grace put my willy upon your face God gave me style God gave me grace God put a smile on my face Haha, God put this smile on my face God made me shine like the sun God make me shine like the sun Sometimes I feel like I'm the one Sometimes I feel like I'm the one It ain't my fault [Bridge] I just reach for style, I'm hot I breaks it down It ain't my fault, you can't break it down the way I break it down [Verse 1- 50 Cent] Listen you can call me what you want, black and ugly But you can't convince me the Lord don't love me When my cds drop, they sell the best You call it luck, why can't it just be I'm blessed I'm a trackstar, runnin' through life, chasin' my dream Best deal I made was tradin a mic for a triple beam I zone off thinkin' is there really heaven or hell So what happens to a changed man who dies in a cell I need no answers to these questions, 'cause time will tell Got a date with destiny, she's more than a girl Don't much good come from me, but my music Is a gift given from God so I'ma use it (Yeaaah!) [Chorus] God gave me style God gave me grace God gave me style God gave me grace God put a smile on my face Haha, God put this smile on my face God made me shine like the sun God make me shine like the sun Sometimes I feel like I'm the one Sometimes I feel like I'm the one It ain't my fault [Bridge] I just reach for style, I'm hot I breaks it down It ain't my fault, you can't break it down the way I break it down [Verse 2- 50 Cent] Some days, I'm in the crowd all by myself Bunch of niggas around I'm still by myself i drift off on a cloud, by myself Thinkin' bout nothin' more than life, what else These days its hard to tell who really cares for me So you when hear this song, you should say a prayer for me I put a message in my music, hope it brightens your day If times are hard, when you hear it, know you'll be okay A OLD G told me God's favorites have a hard time You out the hood, that's good now stay on the grind I'm a spunge, knowledge and wisdom, my insult off fast I'm in a class by myself, you do the math [Chorus] God gave me style God gave me grace God gave me style God gave me grace God put a smile on my face Haha, God put this smile on my face God made me shine like the sun God make me shine like the sun Sometimes I feel like I'm the one Sometimes I feel like I'm the one |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
Yeah
It is what it is man Uh huh Sirens flashin', you know the routine, the crime scene taped off It started off a robbery, they blew half his face off They seen him shinin', course full of diamonds he bought Grindin', his foot slipped off the ladder of success he was climbin' The D's came through, asked the niggas if they knew what happened Somehow my name end up in anything that involves clappin' Detectives at my mama crib, they say they wanna question me They put me in a line up last time and they arrested me When it come to cookin' coke, they know I got the recipe I turn a quarter to a half, thats why they mess with me I'm the neighborhood pusher, I move packs to make stacks A little weed, a little X, a little H, a little crack Figure, I push it to the limit, take this shit to the max Navy blue vest on, navy blue Yankee hat Calm, in my palm, fully loaded fire arm First to let off, last to run, everytime its on I tell niggas to suck my dick Get the fuck out my face Cause I don't need 'em Cause they're never around When I'm down Shot and I'm bleedin' What, niggas yeah Is there a mothafuckin' problem nigga Oh yeah That's what I thought so, pussy niggas be talkin' about me, they always callin' me crazy Fuck them O.G. niggas, they stuck in the eighties Sayin' they gonna do me somethin', now you know thats a lie nigga you look at me wrong, I'll let that hammer fly I'm rich, I still wake up with crime on my mind Queens nigga put it down like Pappy Mason in his prime When I say move, nigga move or get caught in the cross fire Up a fence runnin, cut my fuckin' hand on a barb wire Shits crazy, just a different day, its the same shit Hollow tip part in ya head, leave ya whole fuckin' brain split They sit, they see me in the Ashton Martin What's the matter, they can't get that Hoopty started Thought they was grindin', well goddamn where that money at Thought you was fucked, cause you was lettin' paper stack You ain't a hustler, matter of fact, you's a busta I don't trust ya, I shoulda sent niggas to touch ya I tell niggas to suck my dick Get the fuck out my face Cause I don't need 'em Cause they're never around When I'm down Shot and I'm bleedin' What? Who said they gonna do somethin' to me You must be out your rabbid ass mind Fuck around and kill one of these niggas |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
yeah
let's take 'em back uh-huh comin' up I was confused, my momma kissin' a girl confusion occurs comin' up in the cold world daddy ain't around, probly out commitin' felonies my favorite rapper used to sing "che-check out my melody" I wanna live good, so, shit, I sell dope fo' a four-finger ring, runnin' them gold ropes Stanny told me if I pass, it'd be the sheepskin coat If i could move a few packs, it'd be the hat, and that'd be dope tossed and turned in my sleep that night woke up the next mornin', niggas done stole my bike different day, same shit ain't nothing good in the hood I'd runaway from this bitch, and never come back if I could chorus: (x2) hate it or love it, the underdog's on top and I'm gonna shine, homey, until my heart stops go 'head, envy me, I'm rap's MVP and I ain't goin' nowhere so you could get to know me I told Dre from the gate that I could carry the heat for ya first mix tape song, I inherited befo' ya gritted my teeth fo' ya g-g-g-gee fo' ya put Compton on my back when you was in need of soldiers at my last show I threw away my W A gold I had the whole crowd yellin' "free Yayo" so niggas better get up outta mine 'fore I creep and turn yo' projects into Columbine and I'm rap's MVP, don't make me remind y'all what happened in D.C. this nigga ain't guady, he pretend mad at us 'cause Ashanti got a new boyfriend and it seems your little rat turned out to be a mouse and this b-shit is for birds, and birds fly south even Young Buc can vouch, when the doubts was out, who gave the west coast mouth-to-mouth chorus(x2) from the beginning to the end, losers lose, winners win this is real, we ain't got to pretend the cold world that we in full of pressure and pain I thought it would change it's stayin' the same how many of them bowls was with ya when you had that little tv you had to hit on to get a picture |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005) | |||||
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
50 Cent - In My Hood
Artist: 50 Cent Album: The Massacre Song: In My Hood Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash [50 Cent] Niggaz screw they face up at me On some real shit son they don't want beef (nah) I cock that, aim that shit out the window and spray There ain't a shell left in my heat Y'all niggaz better lay down, yeah I mean stay down You get hit with AK round, your ass ain't gon' make it You niggaz'll get laid out, your blood and your brains out Have you on the concrete ship already sinkin I'm from Southside motherfucker, where them gats explode If you feel like you're on fire, boy drop and roll Niggaz'll eat yo' ass up, cause they heart turned cold Now you can be a victim or you can lock and load The party jump, shorty bouncin that ass, I want her Gimme a second I'ma holla I'ma see whassup I got my razor in my hand, got my pistol in the trunk (uh-huh) Carve your ass up nice you play me like a punk [Chorus: 50 Cent singing] In my hood - niggaz got love for me But I don't go nowhere without my strap In my hood - a little 'dro, a little Hennessy and niggaz just don't know how to act In my hood - niggaz is gri-mey I stay on point, I roll with my gat In my hood - niggaz might buck at me So I keep somethin around to buck back [50 Cent] In my hood... I don't trust a muh'fuckin soul When the D's come they fold, on my first case they told Where I'm from it ain't safe to have more than a eighth Niggaz'll come to your place, put a gun in your face Tell you open the safe, as your heart start to race Cause a robbery could turn into a homo' case Co-operate, or Doc'll have to operate Niggaz I'll pop you, run a light then pop at Jake Trust me son, niggaz'll go hard for that cake These thirsty niggaz are lurkin, you'll have to catch 'em and merk 'em I'm observin in my hood, cause niggaz be dumbin Shots forfeit the dice game, all you see is the runnin They make it harder and harder to pump on the block I'm a hustler, how the fuck I'm 'sposed to eat when it's hot? [Chorus] [50 Cent] In my hood - the house party off the hook until them shots go off Well that's what you get for stuntin on my block showoff Up, you shit out of luck if niggaz catch you slippin (uh-huh) Crack money slow so you know niggaz is trippin (yeah) Shorty down there on that Queens tracks takin a whippin Sheeit, bitch get out of pocket, she need some discipline Peep the fiend shootin diesel in his arm in the alley (ahh) Look at the chrome spinner spinnin on that black Denali The grimey niggaz where I'm from don't wanna see you chipped up You shy nigga on jux, you about to shoot your whip up It ain't good to do good in my hood {*click-clack, BLAM*} You know not to do good now [Chorus] [50 Cent] In my hood... |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
(Intro)
This is 50 (Chorus) I don't know what you take me for I really don't play that shit I ain't got to get you hit I get out myself and spray that shit (Verse 1) I got a itchy itchy trigger finger, nigga its a killa in me not to spray that shit I got enough ammo shots to blow I up a hole in every mothaf**ka out this bitch I unload then reload, when you get hit I supposed you gon' be strong enough to take this shit I'm in the hood ridin' round with a chrome fo' pound, can you see thru the windows see tints I do dirt, the gat bussa, get to kickin' up dust, 'fore the jakes come around here kid niggas get knocked if they start askin' question, my name end up in all types of shit I be a gangsta, nigga till I die fo' sho', whether I'm poor or I'm filthy rich Now what you know about movin' that Peruvian flake for that cake, I get rid of them bricks (Chorus x2) I don't know what you take me for I really don't play that shit I ain't got to get you hit I get out myself and spray that shit (Verse 2) Man I gotta have shoes, you know chrome 22's, everytime I get a brand new whip I rolled around in a 5, till my money got right, then I went back and got that six I'm in a big white Benz, on a hot sunny day, I call up the milk truck and shit I have ya hoe, eyeballin' at the light, damn pimpin', you should take time to check that bitch You'l find me ridin through the hood, actin' like its all good, but I'm lookin' for a ??? and shit In the middle of the night, you can turn on ya lights, I mean my niggas in ya crib nigga holla if there's a problem, and your niggas got drama, I got burners for sell and shit Got the macs, got the nines, got them tecks all the time, holo-tips and the extra clips (Chorus x2) I don't know what you take me for I really don't play that shit I ain't got to get you hit I get out myself and spray that shit (Bridge) Man I'm tired of tellin' niggas over and over everything about me be gangsta Man I'm tired of tellin' niggas over and over I won't hesitate to pop or shank ya Man I'm tired of tellin' niggas over and over they can hustle and I'm in your shit Man I'm tired of tellin' niggas over and over you don't listen you gon' get ya ass hit (Outro) This is 50 Yeah nigga cherish me Like the water you drink Like the air you breathe You need me to live Yeah |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
[Intro - 50 Cent]
Ahh man You know where the niggas be at right? Take me to 'em [Chorus- 50 Cent] All through the hood, I keep hearin' niggas sayin' I'm supposed to die tonight niggas come put a hit out and they talkin' like the shit okay I'm down to ride tonight We rollin, whip stolen, AK loaded I'm down to ride tonight We smokin', straight locin', locked and loaded Somebody gon' die tonight [Verse 1 - 50 Cent] This is nothin' new, I been in the position before Grandma crib, niggas outside of her door Different day, same shit, old mac, new clip Thirty two hollow tips, gloves, no rubber grip I'm a boss, but niggas never show no respect I catch 'em slippin', I have 'em tongue kissin' my tec Wanna come test me, pussy boy don't try Police responds, never fast enough, to satisfy Don't be stupid, find out who you fuckin' wit son 'Fore we find out where ya bitch gets her hair and nails done Its elementary, life is but a dream You know row, row ya boat, your blood forms a stream After you get hit, you shoulda thought about the shit You took that paper, you take a life or ya life get took bitch Sometimes, I sit and look at life from a different angle Don't know if I'm God's child or I'm Satan's angel [Chorus - 50 Cent] All through the hood, I keep hearin' niggas sayin' I'm supposed to die tonight niggas come put a hit out and they talkin' like the shit okay I'm down to ride tonight We rollin, whip stolen, AK loaded I'm down to ride tonight We smokin', straight locin', locked and loaded Somebody gon' die tonight [Verse 2 - 50 Cent] In 2002, if you asked me to make a wish I simply woulda wished that my music would be a hit Big said damn, niggas wanna stick me for my paper And pray for my downfall, I understand it all But me, I'm a little more flashy a nigga So chances are, I'ma have to blast me a nigga I'm on that keflon vest shit, that wild wild west shit And eighty one 1 carrot stones in my necklace I shine so hard, I make mothafuckas wanna kill me Every projects and every hood I go, they feel me Know it sounds like rap, but this shit is real B I don't talk that rich shit, but nigga I'm filthy When I come out to play, had my mom been with me You could bet your bottom dollar that revolver with me Homeboy, frontin' on me will shorten your life span Hold the mic with my left, the knife in my right hand [Chorus - 50 Cent] All through the hood, I keep hearin' niggas sayin' I'm supposed to die tonight niggas come put a hit out and they talkin' like the shit okay I'm down to ride tonight We rollin, whip stolen, AK loaded I'm down to ride tonight We smokin', straight locin', locked and loaded Somebody gon' die tonight |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
50 Cent - Piggy Bank Lyrics
[Chorus x2- 50 Cent] Clickity clank clickity clank The money goes into my piggy bank [Bridge- 50 Cent] I'll get atcha, my knife cuts ya skin I'll get atcha, blow shots at ya man I'll get atcha, Tupac don't pretend I'll get atcha, I'll put that to an end [Verse 1- 50 Cent] That shit is oh, don't be screamin' get at me dawg Have you runnin' for ya life when I match ya boy I get to wavin' that semi, like its legal A lil nigga hurt his arm lettin' off that eagle You know me, black on black bentley, big ol' black nine I'll clap your monkey ass, get black on black crime Big ol' chrome rims, clean you know why I shine C'mon man, you know how I shine I'm in the hood, in the drop, Teflon vinyl top Got a hundred guns, a hundred clips, why I don't hear no shots That fat nigga thought Lean Back was "In Da Club" My shit sold 11 mill, his shit was a dud Jada don't fuck with me if you wanna eat Cause I'll do your lil ass like Jay did Mobb Deep Yeah homie, in New York, niggas like your vocals But thats only New York dawg, your ass is local [Chorus x2- 50 Cent] Clickity clank clickity clank The money goes into my piggy bank [Bridge- 50 Cent] Yeah yeah, get more money, more money Yeah yeah yeah, get more money, more money Yeah yeah yeah, get more money, more money Yeah yeah yeah, get more money, more money Yeah [Verse 2- 50 Cent] Banks shit sells, Buck shit sells, Game shit sells I'm rich as hell, Shyne poppin' off his mouth from a cell He don't want it with me, he in PC I can have a nigga run up on him with a shank For just a few pennies out my piggy bank Yayo, bring the condoms, I'm in room 203 Freak bitch look like Kim before the surgeory Its an emergency, a Michael Jackson see Looked at a picture and said she looks like me Kelis said her milkshake brings all the boys to the yard Then Nas went and tattooed the bitch on his arm I mean that way out in Cali, niggas know these guns First thing they say about you, is you a sucker for love This is chess, not checkers, these are warning shots After your next move I'll give you what I got [Chorus x2- 50 Cent] Clickity clank clickity clank The money goes into my piggy bank [Bridge- 50 Cent] Yeah yeah, get more money, more money Yeah yeah yeah, get more money, more money Yeah yeah yeah, get more money, more money Yeah yeah yeah, get more money, more money Yeah [Bridge- 50 Cent] I'll get atcha, I'll punch out your grill I'll get atcha, let off that blue steal I'll get atcha, nigga I'm for real I'll get atcha, you'll get your ass killed [Outro- 50 Cent] Yeah Yeah Hahahaha Ya'll niggas gotta do somethin' now man All that shoot 'em up shit ya'll be talkin' You gotta do somethin' baby I mean, I mean c'mon man everybody's listenin' nigga everybody's listenin' Hahahaha I know you ain't gon' just let 50 do you like that I mean damn rep your hood nigga nigga you hard right? Pop off Yayo get mobs niggas on the phone And tell the niggas I said grip up niggas got a green light on these monkies Hahahaha |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
Gee wilikers Gatman they got me surrounded
[50 Cent] I'm on my way [Chorus - 50 Cent] I got a gatman There's a problem I'm a solve it A nigga movin' around With a big ass revolver and i'm back, man What the fuck are you retarded You touch Shady I'll leave you dearly departed [Verse 1- 50 Cent] Robin, Cagney or Lacey, it's 50 cent and Shady The worst baby, put your hands on my peoples I'll react crazy, put a hole thru ya front and ya back maybe But dude if you try me, I'll have your ass hooked up to an IV I'll leave no witnesses when I ride, B You fuck with me, you see I react like an animal,and tear you apart If the masterpiece was murder, I'd major in art. Niggas knew I wasn't wrapped too tight from start But bein' a little off, landed me on top of the charts (whoo) So you take the good with the bad, I guess Level three Teflon plate on my chest And my cock back hollow tip in the chamber Will daint ya, anger will change ya And make ya aim there and squeeze [Chorus 50 Cent] I got a gat man There's a problem I'm a solve it A nigga movin' around With a big ass revolver and i'm back, man [x2] [Verse 2 - 50 Cent] Nigga you get it twisted, you can get ya wig splitted I don't give a fuck, I don't care if police know I did it Man I hustle, I get money, in the sunshine or a blizzard I go hard for that paper, homie I just gotta get it Got a money scheme I'm plottin in the county and I'm with it You cross me and you gon' make a cemetary visit That's gangsta, you know me I told it, cuz I live it Shellcases drop, when that chopper chop Way up the block, get hit with copper tops When drama pop, the llama pop And it won't stop, you can run, call the cops this aint new, niggas know how I be on it That shit you got, put my pistol to you I want it Its not a game, perfect aim, you feel the flame Up against ya brain, man its so hot I'll make ya wish it rained [Chorus - 50 Cent] I got a gat man There's a problem I'm a solve it A nigga movin' around With a big ass revolver and i'm back, man What the fuck are you retarded You touch Shady I'll leave you dearly departed. |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
Yeah
Uh huh So seductive I'll take you to the candy shop I'll let you lick the lollipop Go ahead girl don't you stop Keep going til you hit the spot whoaa I'll take you to the candy shop yea Boy wanna taste what I got uh huh I'll have you spending all you got c'mon Keep going til you hit the spot whoaa You could have it your way How do you want it You gonna back that thing up or should I push up on it Temperature rising ok Let's go to the next level Dance floor jam packed hot as a tea kettle I break it down for you now baby it's simple If you be a nympho I be a nympho In the hotel or in the back of the rental On the beach or in the park it's whatever you into Got the magic stick I'm the love doctor Have your friends teaching you about how strong I got you When you show me what you working baby No problem Get on top get your bounce around like a lowrider I'm a seasoned vet when it come to this shit After you work up a sweat you could play with the stick I'm trying to explain baby the best way I can I melt in your mouth girl not in your hand I'll take you to the candy shop I'll let you lick the lollipop Go ahead girl don't you stop Keep going til you hit the spot whoaa I'll take you to the candy shop Boy wanna taste what I got I'll have you spending all you got Keep going til you hit the spot whoaa Girl what we do what we do And where we do and where we do The things we do things we do Are just between me and you oh yeah Give it to me baby nice and slow Climb on top ride like you in a rodeo You ain't never heard a sound like this before Cuz I ain't never put it down like this Soon as I come through the door she kept pulling on my zipper It's like a race who can get undressed quicker Isn't it ironic how erotic it is to watch her in thongs Had me thinking about that ass after I'm gone I touched the right spot at the right time Lights on or lights off she like it from behind So seductive you should see the way she whine Her hips in slow mo on the floor when we grind No she ain't stopping homie and I ain't stopping Dripping wet with sweat man it's on and popping All my champagne campaign bottle after bottle it's on And we gonna sip that heavy bubble is every bottle is gone I'll take you to the candy shop I'll let you lick the lollipop Go ahead girl don't you stop Keep going til you hit the spot whoaa I'll take you to the candy shop Boy wanna taste what I got I'll have you spending all you got Keep going til you hit the spot whoaa I'll take you to the candy shop I'll let you lick the lollipop Go ahead girl don't you stop Keep going til you hit the spot whoaa I'll take you to the candy shop Boy wanna taste what I got I'll have you spending all you got Keep going til you hit the spot whoaa |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
[Intro: Havoc] (50 Cent)
It's the Infamous Mobb, M-O-B-B (Ha Ha) We can't be touched nigga can't you see (G-Unit!!!) [50 Cent]: You do you man cause me I'm 'gon do my thang (You know how I do my thang) I'm a get my drink on and party like it's ok [Verse 1: 50 Cent] Trust me man it's ok bounce with me in slow mo When they hear the kid in the house it's like oh no 50 got 'em locin again, they open again Got 'em sippin on that juice and gin You could find me in the background burnin that backwood Stylin and stuntin doin my two step frontin Now I'm a tell you What Em told me homey Just lose the parental discretion's advised this is grown folk music Now blend in with me, as I proceed to break it down It's always off the chain man when I'm around I play the block bumpin, it was all for the dough I get the club jumpin, cause I'm sick with flow You know it's sold out, like wherever I go I jam packed the show man that's fo' sho' I got the info you already know Man I get it poppin in the club everybody show me love let's go [Chorus: 50 Cent] You, know, I, got, what it takes to make the club go outta control Quit playin turn the music up a little bit, bounce with me now shorty let's get into it You, know, I, got, what it takes to make the club go outta control Quit playin turn the music up a little bit, bounce with me now homey let's get into it [Verse 2: Havoc] You wanna search me than search me but hurry up cause I'm thirsty I need that, grind in my system P, on my side twistin In club today for the chick to go both, ways let me see that ID just for proof With the drink till the burn is gone, hit the dancefloor like a scene from soft porn Before it pop, make me sign a disclaimer Try to get me on some pop shit these chicks will frame ya But, in any event, keep fuckin with 50 it make cents Cents, into them dollars, the hoes wanna holla But you lookin at a nigga that done came from the squalla Now my buddy so gone I can pop ya collar Now follow same nothin let me see you swallow In my crib got the co-ed back the new problem In the club feed them liquor of the wise I'm starvin So much green gettin twisted like Botanical Garden, let's go [Chorus: 50 Cent] You, know, I, got, what it takes to make the club go outta control Quit playin turn the music up a little bit, bounce with me now shorty let's get into it You, know, I, got, what it takes to make the club go outta control Quit playin turn the music up a little bit, bounce with me now homey let's get into it [Verse 3: Prodigy] You already know how it go I bang I shine I play I stay I'm goin for mine I'm young I'm black I'm rich and yes I'm ghetto than the motherfuckin project steps I'm cool I'm calm you lookin real stressed I'm strapped I'm armed kid hold your head I'm known for Gat poppin, when I got problems I don't run, I just gun you all up But we ain't come here to start no drama We just lookin for our future baby mamas With money with face with style and body I cook I clean I swear that mami Just as long as you don't go off and tell nobody I go down low, I'm lyin I'm tryin my best to let you know Sugar pop get at P The Doc beat make it easy to get 'em in the bed sheets [Chorus: 50 Cent] You, know, I, got, what it takes to make the club go outta control Quit playin turn the music up a little bit, bounce with me now shorty let's get into it You, know, I, got, what it takes to make the club go outta control Quit playin turn the music up a little bit, bounce with me now homey let's get into it |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
Artist: 50 Cent
Song: Get In My Car [Intro] Uhhhhh Yeah Uhhhhh Yeah [Verse 1] I'm a straight guerilla with it, cold hearted killa wit it Any nigga gettin' outta line can get it I make it hot, motherf**kers freeze up when I come through Mac-10, thirty two shot clip in my snorkel I might smile and say whats up but I don't f**k with you niggaz My rap money slow up, I'll run up on you niggaz I'm on the edge, I'm just waitin' on a nigga to push me Put my hand on my strap, what you lookin' at pussy We ain't buddies, we ain't partners and we damn sure ain't friends So much chrome on my Benz, you see ya face in my rims If your bitch wanna roll, I'ma let her get in I don't play but I'm a playa till the motherf**kin' end {*gunshots*} [Chorus: repeat 2X] I got no pickup lines I stay on the grind I tell the hoes all the time Bitch get in my car (Bitch get in) I got my 64, ridin' on Dayton spokes And when I open that do' Bitch get in my car [Verse 2] Don't tell me you don't know that, uhh I'm the shyiiit Now you better watch ya girl mayn, I leave with ya bitch I ain't ?? these hoes, man I'm bout my paper If your bitch really bout it nigga I'm gon' take her Backseat of my jeep, f**k till I f**k up her make up Take her to the Diamond District, introduce her to Jacob Tell her if she like me she should keep me icey My game f**k with a bitch brain till she think she wifey Spent a life savings in a day, cause she likes me Committment for me, uhh nah not likely One hour, Vivica, I thought I was onto somethin' But then the next week, nah man it was nothin' {*gunshots*} [Chorus] [Verse 3] Look into the windows of my soul, the eyes never lie They blood shot red, its gaunja in my system, I'm high First its pain when you lust for love, then its smooth and calm Feel the rush, like a needles in your arm Its a cold world baby girl, lovin' me is not enough Find out when you f**kin' broke, love won't get you on the bus Man you should see the pretty bitches that be sexin' me They suck cock that make 'em hot, I just let 'em stand next to me Hundred percent thug, freak too, I'll taste your love 69's the position, your mouths full baby huhhhh? My conversations so deep, I get in your head Next thing you know, you yawnin', turnin' over and I'm in the bed {*gunshots8} [Chorus] [Outro] Hahaha Quit playin' bitch get it You know you wanna ride with a nigga 50 Cent G-G-G-G-G-Unit |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
Intro)
Yeah I'm Tryin to catch me sumthin I'ma catch you sumthin (Chorus) nigga that watch is nice that's what you bought for me that chain is nice that's what you bought for me them earrings is nice That's what you bought for me? Take that shit off, move I'll break you off properly I get mine the fast way, ski mask way Make money Make money, money, money nigga if you ask me It's the only way Take money Take money, money, money (Verse 1) You wanna spray at me? Go head The last nigga that tried Got hit, keeled over, and bled 'til he died Ya little sister callin you stupid Reason why? Her and ya momma in the livin room now hog-tied I came up wit two new ways to get rich I cant wait Got a brand new cig and that old thirty eight I be scheming to put a lil' bread on my plate Watchin Dre serve skunk through the hole in the gate I stick a nigga for his shine sell em' back the next day You thought I really wanted your pussy, bitch please This is stash house, jack pot, leave her them keys My black g-unit hoody just reaked of marijuana Cocaine coming out my pores in the summer Im serious man I'm so sincere This the flow right here that f**ked up Jeffery's career Make money, take money Yeah nigga yeah (Chorus) nigga that watch is nice that's what you bought for me that chain is nice that's what you bought for me them earrings is nice That's what you bought for me? Take that shit off, move I'll break you off properly I get mine the fast way, ski mask way Make money Make money, money, money nigga if you ask me It's the only way Take money Take money, money, money (Verse 2) Whos dat peepin in my window Wow The feds on me now They know when im sleeping They know when im wake I know they got my phone taped im screamin f**k jake Im tryin to stay out them pens, so I switch states Bad news V-A now that sounds great I see niggas wit that ice on, rims shined up This towns one big pussy waitin to get f**ked I holla at A-I peoples to get gats They charged me 500 a piece for two macs Then im back doin me Im back out on a spree Catch me n' niggas slippin out pumpin dat D Give me a lil' crew I'll have em' pumpin for me The more product I take the more paper we see Change my name in N-Y they don't know where I be Yeah a nigga doin dirt but a nigga low key (Chorus) nigga that watch is nice that's what you bought for me that chain is nice that's what you bought for me them earrings is nice That's what you bought for me? Take that shit off, move I'll break you off properly I get mine the fast way, ski mask way Make money Make money, money, money nigga if you ask me It's the only way Take money Take money, money, money |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
She loves me, she loves me not
Yeah she loves me not The fiends need me, I ain't around it, bones ache Detox, rehab, cold sweat, watch 'em shake I'm not that genie in a bottle, I'm in a bag Take one hit, I slide off to the land of the H man When we first met, I thought you'd never doubt me Now you tryna leave me, you'll never live without me Girl, I'm missin' you, come and see me soon Tie your arm up, put that lighter under that spoon Now put that needle to ya arm princess, stick it in Relapse you fat bitch, don't ever try that again All that shit I did for you, I made you feel good We have a love thing, you treatin' this like its just a fling What we have is more sacred than a vow or a ring You broke my heart, you dirty bitch I won't forget what you did If you give birth, I'll already be in love with your kids Listen, I don't give a damn if your ass start smokin' But we have a bond and its not to be broken We got a love thing where you try to leave me But you need me, can't you see you're addicted to me We got a love thing, I can take you higher girl Fuckin' with me, you can be all you can be Baby you know, on the low your sister be eyein' me I'm good lookin', so you know, sure she be tryin' me I heard she bisexual, she fuck with that girl But boy, oh boy, fuckin' wit me is a whole 'nother world After that first night, she fall in love, then chased a feelin' I hung out with Marvin when he wrote "Sexual Healing" Kurt Cobain even good friends, Ozzy Ozbourne too I be with rock stars, see you lucky I'm fuckin' with you I chill with Frankie Lyeman and Jimmy Hendrix crew See this is new to you, but to me this ain't new I live a lavished life, listen if the mood is right Me, you, and your sister can do the do tonight I never steer you wrong, you're hyper I make ya calm I be the incentive and reason for you to move forward Let's make a date, promise me you'll come and see me Even if it means you have to sell ya mama's TV I love you, love me back, no one said lovin' me'd be easy We got a love thing where you try to leave me But you need me, can't you see you're addicted to me We got a love thing, I can take you higher girl Fuckin' with me, you can be all you can be I love you, I got you barefooted on glass, chasin' a dove That monkey on your back, symbolizes my love Your friends talk bad about me bitch, you sit there and listen to 'em Over and over you hurt me, my love is unconditional They talk to you when you up, you down they got nothin' to say But when you call, I'll come runnin', I'll always take the pain away They set you up, to let you down, they crowned you prom queen Fiddle about me behind your back, they call you a fuckin' fiend Can we just be alone, so I can kiss and hug you Plus me beside you, no other man can loves you like I do Call me daddy, I'll make you feel good, I mean real good I found pleasure in pleasin' you, like a real man should It was written long before, it was carved in a tree Forever me and you baby we were meant to be There's more to life than laughter, what brought us together was fate And we'll be hand in hand, when you walk through those pearly gates And to see to that, I'ma do whatever it takes We got a love thing where you try to leave me But you need me, can't you see you're addicted to me We got a love thing, I can take you higher girl Fuckin' with me, you can be all you can be |
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from 50 Cent - The Massacre (2005)
50 Cent - Ryder Music Lyrics
[Intro] Yeah Yeah we can ride to this Just lay back, crew [Verse 1] Here's a taste of my life, its bitter and sweet I put my heart out to the sounds of the drums and the beat I put my life on the line when I'm out on the street Put my teflon on and roll with my heat I keep my circle nice and small, I don't f**k with these clown niggas In a race for the cheese, I run laps around niggas Soon as I step on stage, the crowd applauds Soon as my sneaker wear in stores, Reebok stocks sore I ain't gotta say I'm a boss, niggas can tell The east coast crib, the size of a small hotel The shit journalist write about me, get me confused Have me feelin' like the heavy weight champ when he lose I read somewhere, I'm homophobic shiiit Go through the hood, there's mad niggas on my dick Now we can get hostile or we can do this smooth T&T around, I can still make blow move [Chorus x2] This is what you call ryder music All the gangstas are ridin' to it Let's roll, I can show ya how we do it When we ride to that ryder music (let's go) [Let's go] [Verse 2] Last year, I woke up, a good look, damn it feels good On the low, I done f**ked like half of Hollywood Had your favorite actress from your favorite shows In my favorite position, you know how it goes In my Bentley bumpin' Prince shit "This is When Thugs Cry" This is what it sounds like when hollow tip slugs fly Homie, this is somethin' you can ride and smoke to Stay on point, cause niggas will ride and smoke you Jealousy's for women, but some niggas is bitch made They make you wanna run across they head wit a switch blade They point their finger at me, sayin' I'm bug My flows crack you listen, your f**kin' brains on drugs Look, ice drippin' on my neck, hands grippin' on the tec Fool trippin' through the set, you can get ya ass whipped Cards missin' out my deck, screws loose show respect You try to come at me kid, your ass better come correct [Chorus x2] This is what you call ryder music All the gangstas are ridin' to it Let's roll, I can show ya how we do it When we ride to that ryder music (let's go) [Let's go] [Verse 3] My mama gave birth to a winner, I gotta win Pray to Lord, forgive me for my sins Still thuggin', cruisin', rims gleamin' Like the stones on my wrist Zonin', guess this is how it feels to be rich Homie, you hustlin' backwards if you chasin' a bitch Stupid, chase the paper, they come with the shit I'm fallin', in love with success Entrepeneure, kinda sewer, I maneuver the best Rowin', ruger on my lap, rubber grip on the handle Stunt I'll have ya homies burn a rest in peace candle As wise men speak, I listen and learn A man dies, a baby's born, my niggas the world turns Rappers, I make 'em sick when I say I'm the shit They mistake my confidance for arrogance, they hate on the kid In '99, I had a vision and made a decision Bein' broke is against my religion, now picked up [Chorus x2] This is what you call ryder music All the gangstas are ridin' to it Let's roll, I can show ya how we do it When we ride to that ryder music (let's go) [Let's go] |