Get Rich or Die Tryin'
Album - 4 febbraio 2003 - Debaser id 46920

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 gets down (Down)

[Chorus]
What up blud? (What?)
What up cuz? (What?)
What up blud? (What?)
What up gangstaaa?

What up blud? (What?)
What up cuz? (What?)
What up blud? (What?)
What up gangstaaa?

[Verse 1]
They say I walk around like got an "S" on my chest
Naw, that's a semi-auto, and a vest on my chest
I try not to say 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, blud (What?)

[Chorus (w/variation 1st time)]
What up cuz? (What?)
What up blud? (What?)
What up gangstaaa?

What up blud? (What?)
What up cuz? (What?)
What up blud? (What?)
What up gangstaaa?

[Bridge]
We don't play that
We don't play that
We don't play that (G-Unit)
We don't play around

[Verse 2]
I sit back, twist the best bud, burn and wonder
When gangstas bump my shit, can they hear my hunger?
When the 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

[Chorus]
What up blud (What?)
What up cuz? (What?)
What up blud? (What?)
What up gangstaaa?

What up blud? (What?)
What up cuz? (What?)
What up blud? (What?)
What up gangstaaa?

[Bridge x4]
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

[Lloyd Banks]
Man we gotta go get something to eat man yeah
I'm hungry as a motherf**ker

[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 f**k!?

[50 Cent]
Ahh! son, pull off! pull off!

[50 Cent]
Many men, wish death upon me
Blood in my eye dawg and I can't see
I'm trying to be what I'm destined to be
And niggas trying to take my life away
I put a hole in a nigga for f**king 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 motherf**ker, 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

Sunny days wouldn't be special, if it wasn't for rain
Joy wouldn't feel so good, if it wasn't for pain
Death gotta be easy, 'cause life is hard
It'll leave you physically, mentally, and emotionally scarred
This if for my niggas on the block, twisting trees and cigars
For the niggas on lock, doing life behind bars
I don't see only god can judge me, 'cause I see things clear
Quick these crackers will give my black ass a hundred years
I'm like Paulie in Goodfellas, you can call me the Don
Like Malcolm by any means, with my gun in my palm
Slim switched sides on me, let niggas ride on me
I thought we was cool, why you want me to die homie? (homie)

Many men, many, many, many, many men
Wish death upon me
Lord I don't cry no more
Don't look to the sky no more
Have mercy on me
Have mercy on my soul
Somewhere my heart turned cold
Have mercy on many men
Many, many, many, many men
Wish death upon me

Every night I talk to god, but he don't say nothing back
I know he protecting me, but I still stay with my gat
In my nightmares, niggas keep pulling techs on me
Psych says some bitch dumb, put a hex on me
The feds didn't know much, when Pac got shot
I got a kite from the pens that told me, Tuck got knocked
I ain't gonna spell it out for you motherf**kers all the time
Are you illiterate nigga? You can't read between the lines
In the bible it says, what goes around, comes around
Homie 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 f**king breathin'

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

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
'Cause 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

[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

[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

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 niggaz from ya 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]

"This rap shit is all fucked up now! What are we gonna do now?
How we gonna eat man? 50 back around"

That's Ja's lil punk ass thinking out loud
Southside till I die, that's just how I get down
I'm back in the game Shawty, to +Rule+ and conquer
You sing for hoes and sound like the cookie monster
I'm the hardest from New York, my flow is bonkers
All the other hard niggaz, they come from Yonkers
It's been years and you had the same niggaz in the background
You never gonna sell Mitsubishi Tah's and crack child
Them niggaz they just SUCK, they no good
I ain't never heard a nigga say "they like them in the hood"
I'm back better than ever, on top of my game
Even them country boys sayin "50 we feelin you man"
Now stay the fuck outta my zone, outta my throne
I'm New York City's own... BAD GUY (BAD GUY)

[Chorus]

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 BLOOW
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 huuhhh
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 mothafuckin 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 twelve-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!"

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

(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

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

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

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