50 Cent


Lyrics


Get Rich Or Die Tryin'

2/6/2003

01. Intro (Skit)
02. What Up Gangsta
03. Patiently Waiting
04. Many Men
05. In Da Club
06. High All The Time
07. Heat
08. If I Can't
09. Blood Hound
10. Back Down
11. P.I.M.P.
12. Like My Style
13. Poor Lil Rich
14. 21 Questions
15. Don't Push Me
16. Gotta Make It To Heaven
17. Wanksta
18. U Not Like Me
19. Life's On The Line

01. Intro (Skit)

[Background music]
Stomp a bone out your ass with some brand new chuckas
What up, Blood? [What]
What up, Cuz? [What]
What up, Blood? [What]
What up, Gangstaaa?

[Girl Reading Mail At Mail Box]
To all my fans, Love 50 Cent, [giggle] Happy Valentines Day, hmm

[Guns Shooting]
[Girl Screaming]
[Guns Shells Emptying Hitting Ground]


02. What Up Gangsta

G-Unit (What)
We in here (What)
We can get the drama popping
We don't care (What, what, what)
It's going down (What)
'Cause I'm around (What)
50 Cent, you know how I gets down (Down)

[Chorus: repeat 2X]
What up, Blood? (What)
What up, Cuz? (What)
What up, Blood? (What)
What up, Gangstaaa?

[Verse 1]
They say I walk around like got an "S" on my chest
Naw, that's a semi-auto, and a vest on my chest
I try not to say nothing, the DA might want to play in court
But I'll hunt or duck a nigga down like it's sport
Front on me, I'll cut ya, gun-butt ya or bump ya
You getting money? I can't none with ya then fuck ya
I'm not the type to get knocked for D.W.I.
I'm the type that'll kill your connect when the coke price rise
Gangstas, they bump my shit then they know me
I grew up around some niggas that's not my homies
Hundred G's I stash it (what), the mack I blast it (yeah)
D's come we dump the diesel and battery acid
This flow's been mastered, the ice I flash it
Chokes me, I'll have your mama picking out your casket, bastard
I'm on the next level, right lane forget bezzle
Benz pedal to the metal, hotter than a tea kettle, god (what)

[Chorus (1st time w/o first "What up, Blood?") (2x)]

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

[Verse 2]
I sit back, twist the best bud, burn and wonder
When gangstas bump my shit, can they hear my hunger?
When the 5th kick, duck quick, it sounds like thunder
In December I'll make your block feel like summer
The rap critics say I can rhyme, the fiends say my dope is a nine
Every chick I fuck with is a dime
I'm like Patty LaBelle, homie, I'm on my own
Where I lay my hat is my home, I'm a rolling stone
Cross my path I'll crush ya, thinking I won't touch ya
I'll have your ass using a wheelchair, cane, or crutches
Industry hoe fuckers, in the hood they love us
Stomp a bone out your ass with some brand new chuckas

[Chorus (2x)]

[Bridge (4x)]


03. Patiently Waiting

[50 Cent talkin]
Hey Em, you know you my favorite white boy right?
I owe you for this one

[Chorus]
Ive been patiently waiting for a track to explode on
You can stun if you want and your ass'll get rode on
It feels like my flows been hot for so long
If you thinkin Ima fuckin fall off your so wrong

[Verse 1 - 50 Cent]
Finishin in my head, like a baby born dead
destination heaven, sit and politic with passengars from nine eleven
The lords blessins leave me lyrically inclined
shit I aint even gotta try to shine
God's a seamstress to tailor fitted my pain
I got scriptures in my brain I could spit at your dame
straight out the good book, look, niggaz iz shook
50 fears no man, warrior swing swords like Conan
picture me pen in hand write lines knowin the source of polley
When I die, they'll read this and say a genius wrote it
I grew up without my pops should that make me bitta?
I caught cases I copped out does that make me a quitta?
In this white man's world Im similiar to a squirrel
lookin for a slut with a nice butt to get a nut
If I get shot today my phone will stop ringin again
These industry niggaz aint friends, they know how to pretend

[Chorus x2]

[Eminem - Hook]
[heart monitor beeps]
We've been patiently waitin to make it through all the hatin
debatin whether or not, you can even whether the storm
Lay on the table they operatin to save you
its like an angel came to you sent from the heavens above

[Eminem - Verse 2]
[heart monitor stops]
They think they're crazy but they aint crazy lets face it, shit basically
they just playin sick, they aint shit They aint sayin shit spray'em Fifty
A to the K, get in the way Ill bring Dre and them wit me
and turn this day into fuckin mayhem you stayin wit me?
Dont let me lose you Im not tryin to confuse you
when I let loose with this uzi and just shoot through your Izuzu
You get the message am I gettin through to you?
You know whats comin you motherfuckers dont even know do you?
Take some Big and some Pac and you mix 'em up in a pot
Sprinkle a little big L on top, what the fuck do you got?
You got the realest and illest killa's tied up in a knot
The Jugganautz of this rap shit, like it or not
Its like a fight to the top just to see who died for the spot
You put your life in this, nothin like survivin' the shot
Y'all know what time it is as soon as Fifty signs on this dot
Shit what you know about death threats, cuz I get alot
Shady Records was eighty seconds away from the towers
some cowards fucked with the wrong building they meant to hit ours
Better evacuate all children its nuclear showers
theres nothin spookier, your now about to witness the power of fuckin Fifty

[Chorus x2]

[50 Cent - Verse 3]
Gun gone off he dont know that shots go off
Its fifty, they say Its Fifty
see a nigga laid out with his top blown off
Itz fifty, man that wasnt Fifty, they wanna holla my name
You dont throw stonez if you live in a glass house
and if you got a glass jaw, you should watch your mouth
cuz Ill break your face, have your ass runnin
mumblin to the Jake, you goin against me dawg you makin a mistake
Ill split you have you lookin like the Michael Jackson's jackets with all them zippers
Im the boss on this boat, you can call me skipper
the way I turn the money over you should call me flipper
You a bitch, a regular bitch, callin her wifey
I fucked her, feed her fast food, you keepin her icy
Im down to sell records but not my soul
Snoop said this in 94': "We dont love them hoez"
I got pennies for my thoughts, now Im rich
see the twentys spinnin lookin mean on the six
niggaz wearin flags, cuz the colors match they clothes
They get caught in the wrong hood and get filled up with holes.

[Chorus x2]


04. Many Men

[Lloyd Banks]
Man we gotta go get something to eat man
I'm hungry as a motherfucker

[50 Cent]
Ay yo man, damn what's taking homie so long son?

[Lloyd Banks]
50, calm down, here he come

[9 Shots]

[Banks and 50]
Ahh, ohh, what the fuck!?

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

[50 Cent]
Many men, wish death upon me
Blood in my eye dawg and I can't see
I'm trying to be what I'm destined to be
And niggas trying to take my life away
I put a hole in a nigga for fucking with me
My back on the wall, now you gon' see
Better watch how you talk, when you talk about me
'Cause I'll come and take your life away

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

Now these pussy niggas putting money on my head
Go on and get your refund motherfucker, I ain't dead
I'm the diamond in the dirt, that ain't been found
I'm the underground king and I ain't been crowned
When I rhyme, something special happen every time
I'm the greatest, something like Ali in his prime
I walk the block with the bundles
I've been knocked on the humble
Swing the ox when I rumble
Show your ass what my gun do
Got a temper nigga, go'head, lose your head
Turn your back on me, get clapped and lose your legs
I walk around gun on my waist, chip on my shoulder
Till I bust a clip in your face, pussy, this beef ain't over

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

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

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

Every night I talk to god, but he don't say nothing back
I know he protecting me, but I still stay with my gat
In my nightmares, niggas keep pulling techs on me
Psych says some bitch dumb, put a hex on me
The feds didn't know much, when Pac got shot
I got a kite from the pens that told me, Tuck got knocked
I ain't gonna spell it out for you motherfuckers all the time
Are you illiterate nigga? You can't read between the lines
In the bible it says, what goes around, comes around
Almost shot me, three weeks later he got shot down
Now it's clear that I'm here, for a real reason
'Cause he got hit like I got hit, but he ain't fukcing breathing

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


05. In Da Club

[50 Cent]
Go, go, go, go
Go, go, go shawty
It's your birthday
We gon' party like it's yo birthday
We gon' sip Bacardi like it's your birthday
And you know we don't give a fuck
It's not your birthday!

[Chorus] (2x)
You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub
Look mami I got the X if you into taking drugs
I'm into having sex, I ain't into making love
So come give me a hug if you into to getting rubbed

[Verse]
When I pull out up front, you see the Benz on dubs
When I roll 20 deep, it's 20 knives in the club
Niggas heard I fuck with Dre, now they wanna show me love
When you sell like Eminem, and the hoes they wanna fuck
But homie ain't nothing change hold down, G's up
I see Xzibit in the Cutt that nigga roll that weed up
If you watch how I move you'll mistake me for a playa or pimp
Been hit wit a few shells but I dont walk wit a limp
In the hood then the ladies saying "50 you hot"
They like me, I want them to love me like they love 'Pac
But holla in New York them niggas'll tell ya im loco
And the plan is to put the rap game in a choke hold
I'm feelin' focused man, my money on my mind
I got a mill out the deal and I'm still on the grind
Now shawty said she feeling my style, she feeling my flow
Her girlfriend wanna get bi and they ready to go

[Chorus] (2x)

[Bridge]
My flow, my show brought me the doe
That bought me all my fancy things
My crib, my cars, my pools, my jewels
Look nigga I got K-Mart and I ain't change

[Verse]
And you should love it, way more then you hate it
Nigga you mad? I thought that you'd be happy I made it
I'm that cat by the bar toasting to the good life
You that faggot ass nigga trying to pull me back right?
When my junk get to pumpin in the club it's on
I wink my eye at ya bitch, if she smiles she gone
If the roof on fire, let the motherfucker burn
If you talking bout money homie, I ain't concerned
I'm a tell you what Banks told me cause go 'head switch the style up
If the niggas hate then let 'em hate
Watch the money pile up
Or we go upside there wit a bottle of bub
You know where we fucking be

[Chorus] (2x)

[Talking]
(laughing) Don't try to act like you ain't know where we been either nigga
In the club all the time nigga, its about to pop off nigga
G-Unit


06. High All The Time

[Chorus]
I don't need Dom Perignon, I don't need Cris
Tanqueray and Alize, I don't need shit
Nigga I'm high all the time, I smoke that good shit
I stay high all the time, man I'm on some hood shit

Give me some dro, purple haze, and some chocolate
Give me a dutch and a lighter I'll spark shit
And stay high all the time, I smoke that good shit
I'm high all the time, man I'm on some hood shit

[Verse 1]
Everytime I ROLL up, niggas holla ROLL up, and I tell'em HOLD up,
You ain't gettin money you ain't smoking
In my Benzo, 20 inch Lorenzos, smoking on indo
Hiiigh as a motherfucker
I be on them backstreets, niggas know I clap heat, only if you got beef
Man you better holla at me
Niggas get locked up, stabbed up, shot up
Everytime I pop up, a lot going on in my hood

I shoot the dice, I holler get'em girls
Daddy need new shoes
Daddy need Perelli's to look mean on 22s
Stash box, Xbox, laptop, fax machine, phone
Bulletproof this bitch and I'm gone
2003 Suburban swerving, too many sips of Henny
The D's sick, they searched the whip and they can't find the semis
They was just harassing me cause they know who I was
Spent the night in Central Booking for smoking some bud

[Chorus]

[Verse 2]
Now if you heard I done started some shit
It ain't because I be high (I be high, I be high)
And if you heard I done let off a clip
It ain't because I be high (I be high, I be high)
But I- twist that la, la, la, la

I get high as I wanna nigga
Go against me, fa sho, you's a goner nigga
I don't smoke to calm my nerves but I got beef
Finna crush my enemies like I crush the hashish
If you love me, tell me you love me, don't stare at me man
I'd hate to be in the Benz clapping one of my fans
Let me show you how to greet me, when you meet me, when you see me
If you real my nigga, you know how to holla "G-Unit!"
There's no competition, it's just me,
50 Cent, motherfucker, I'm hot on these streets
If David could go against Goliath with a stone
I can go at Nas and Jigga, both for the throne

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
Now who you know besides me who write lines and squeeze nines
And have hoes in the hood sniffin on white lines
You don't want me to be your kid's role model
I'll teach them how to buck them 380s and load up them hollows
Have shorty fresh off the stoop, ready to shoot
Big blunt in his mouth, deuce deuce in his boot
Sit in the crib, sippin Guinness, watching Menace
Then Oh Lord, have a young nigga bucking shit like he O-Dog
My team they depend on me when it's crunch time
I eat a nigga food in broad day like it's lunchtime
You feeling brave nigga, go ahead get gully
See if I won't leave your brains leaking up out your skully
I done made myself hot, so ain't shit you can tell me
Niggas calling me to feature, man fuck your money
I ain't hurting, I'm doing good
I ain't got to write rhymes, I got bricks in the hood

[Chorus]

G-Unit, are you ready
G-Unit, are you ready
G-Unit, are you ready
Nigga, ready or not, here I come, come, come


07. Heat

[Skit]
"Aye you want some of this shit"
"Naw, I don't want that shit"
"I don't give a fuck, I don't play dat shit"
"And I'm fin'nin to buss a cap in a nigga"
"Man SHUT the fuck up"
"Whoa slow down, slow down, slow down"
"You see that brick house right there"
"That's the nigga crib when he come out you gotta tighten his ass up"
"I'ma get in the other car"
"Aight" [a car revs up]
[gunshots]

[Chorus: 50 Cent]
If there's beef, cock it and dump it, the drama really means nothin
To me I'll ride by and blow ya brains out (brains out)
There's no time to cock it, no way you can stop it
When niggas run up on you wit them thangs out (thangs out)
I do what I gotta do I don't care I if get caught
The DA can play this motherfuckin tape in court
I'll kill you - I ain't playin, hear what I'm sayin, homie I ain't playin
Catch you slippin, I'ma kill you - I ain't playin, hear what I'm sayin,
homie I ain't playin

[50 Cent]
Keep thinkin I'm candy till ya fuckin skull get popped
And ya brain jump out the top like Jack-in-da-box
In the hood summer time is the killing season
It's hot out this bitch that's a good 'nuff reason
I've seen gangsta's get religious when they start bleedin
Sayin "Lord, Jesus Help Me" cause they ass leakin
When they window roll down and that A.K. come out
You can squeeze ya lil handgun until you run out
And you can run for ya back-up
But them machine gun shells gone tear ya back up
God's on ya side, shit I'm aight wit that
We reload them clips and come right back
It's a fact homie, you go against me ya fucked
I get the drop, if you can duck, ya luckier then Lady Luck
Look nigga, don't think you safe cause you moved out the hood
Cuz ya momma still around dog, and daddy ain't good
If you was smart you'd be shook of me
Cuz I'd get tired of lookin for ya, spray ya momma crib, and let ya ass look
for me

[Chorus]

[50 Cent]
My heart bleeds for you nigga, I can't wait to get to you
Behind that twinkle in ya eyes, I can see the bitch in you
Nigga you know the streets talk
So they'll be no white flags and no peace talks
I got my back against the wind, I'm down to ride till the sun burn out
If I die today, I'm happy how my life turned out
See the shootouts that I've been in I'm by myself
Locked up I was in a box by myself
I done made myself a millionaire by myself
Now, shit changed motherfucker I can hire some help
I done heard about the 50 grand you put in the hood
But ya shooter fin'nin to get get shot it won't do 'em no good
With a pistol I define the definition of pain
If you survive ya bones'll still fuckin hurt when it rain
Oh you a pro at playin battleship well this ain't the same
Lil homie this is a whole different type of war game
See the losers and up in shackles of motherfuckin chains
Or laid out in the streets leakin out they brains

[Chorus]

[50 Cent]
After the fist fights it's gunfire boy you get the best of me (best of me)
If you don't wanna get shot I suggest you don't go testin me (testin me)
All the wrong I've done the Lord still keep on blessin me (blessin me)
Fin'nin to run rap cuz Dr. Dre got the recipe (the recipe, recipe)

Yeah, uh ha, aye Dre
You got me feelin real bulletproof up in this motherfucker
Cuz my windows on my motherfuckin Benz is bulletproof nigga
Cuz my motherfuckin vest is bulletproof nigga
Cuz my motherfuckin hat is bulletproof nigga
But the Doc said if I get hit I might get a fuckin concussion
Better that then a hole in the head right nigga, heh heh ha ha


08. If I Can't

Yea, ha ha, yea, yea

[Hook: 50 Cent]
If I can't do well, homey, it can't be done
Now I'ma let the champagne bottle pop
I'ma take it to the top
Fo sho I'ma make it hot, baby (baby)

[Verse 1: 50 Cent]
I apply pressure to pussies that stuntin I pop
Stand alone squeezin my pistol I'm sure that I gotta
Now Peter Piper picked peppers and dont rock rhymes
I'm 50 Cent, I write a lil bit but I pop nines
Tell niggaz, "Get they money right," cuz I got mine
And I'm around quit playin nigga you can't shine
You gon be that next chump to end up in the trunk
After bein hit by the pump, is that whut you want?
Be easy nigga, I'll lay your ass out
Believe me nigga, thats whut I'm about, gangsta
You could find a nigga sittin on chrome
Hit the clutch, hit the gear, hit the gas & I'm gone (Yea!)

[Hook: 50 Cent]
If I can't do well, homey, it can't be done
Now I'ma let the champagne bottle pop
I'ma take it to the top
Fo sho I'ma make it hot, baby (baby)

[Verse 2: 50 Cent (Dr Dre)]
I'm down for the action, he smart with his mouth so smack em
You holdin a strap, he might come back so clap em
React like a gangsta, die like a gangsta for actin
Cuz you'll get hit & homicide'll be askin, "Whut happened?"
OH NO look who clapped em with the FO'FO'
20 inch rims sittin CHRO-CHROME
Eastside, Westside niggaz OH NO, NO GO
Even my mama said, "Something really wrong with my brain"
Niggaz don't rob me they know I'm down to die for my chain
G-UNIT! We get it poppin in the hood
G-UNIT! Muthafucka whuts good?
I'm waitin on niggaz to act like they dont know how to act
I had a sip of too much Jack, I'll blow em off the map
With the mack, thinkin its all rap
Til that ass get clapped and Doc say "It's a wrap"

(It's a wrap, nigga)

[Hook: 50 Cent]
If I can't do well, homey, it can't be done
Now I'ma let the champagne bottle pop
I'ma take it to the top
Fo sho I'ma make it hot, baby (baby)

[Verse 3: 50 Cent]
I been feelin i had to teach lessons to slow learners
Go head act up, get smacked in the head with the burner
I dont fight fair, I'm dirty-dirty
I'm from Southside Jamaica, Queens, nigga ya'heard me?
When streetlights come on niggaz blast the nines
Get locked up, they read books to pass the time
In the game there's up's and down's, so I stay on the grind
Niggaz on my dick more than my bitch, I stay on they mind
They aint nothin they could do to stop my shine
This is God's plan homey, this ain't mine
I played the music loud so Grandpa called me a nuisance
And Grandma; who always gotta throw a 100 percent
I'm the drop out who made more more money than these teachers
Roofless/Ruthless like the Coupe but I come with more features
I am whut I am, you could like it or love it
It feels good to pull 50 grand & think nothin of it
Fuck it

[Hook: 50 Cent]
If I can't do well, homey, it can't be done
Now I'ma let the champagne bottle pop
I'ma take it to the top
Fo sho I'ma make it hot, baby (baby)

If I can't do well, homey, it can't be done
Now I'ma let the champagne bottle pop
I'ma take it to the top
Fo sho I'ma make it hot, baby (baby)

Uh huh, hood make it hot
Dr Dre, Aftermath
Shady, ha ha


09. Blood Hound

[50 Cent]
G-Unit, UTP
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
G-Unit, UTP, G-Unit, UTP
G-Unit, UTP, 50 Cent, get 'em bucked

[50 Cent]
50 Cent, that's my name
Man I ain't fuckin' playin'
I move on you wit' that Mac mayn (Mac mayn)
Come off, now watch your chain
Fo' I blow out your brains
Shells hit your chest go out your back mayn (back mayn)
See me I put in work, man I been doin' dirt
For so long when niggas get laid out (laid out)
Niggas run through my crib, to holla at the kid
That's when I start bringin' them thangs out (thangs out)
Then we go through the strip, hangin' up out the whip
Dumpin' clips off at they whole clique mayn (clique mayn)
When witnesses around, they know how we get down
So when the cops come they ain't see shit mayn (shit mayn)
My soldiers slangin' 'caine, sunny, snow, in sleet or rain
Come through the hood and you can cop that (cop that)
I'm sittin' on some change, G-Unit gots the game
Come through here stuntin' you get popped at (popped at)

[Chorus 2x]
I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two Glocks
Love to bust shots but you don't hear me though

[Young Buck]
I came in this game knowin' niggas gon' hate me
Just for the simple fact they know that I'm a rida' (rida')
I got a hell of a aim, I keep on tellin' ya mayn
I swear ain't nobody gon' find ya (find ya)
When I get lifted I'm tempted to tear your block up
Your niggas can't run cause I'm behind ya (behind ya)
Me and Chilly in your city wit' a couple nine-milli's
You better stay in line bro' (in line bro')
Cause if I walk it I'll talk it, you know we'll walk up and pop it
I love the sound of gunfire bro' (gunfire bro')
Right now we smackin' 'em wit' platinum
And they hate it cause we made it, that's what we keep that eye for (that eye for)
I represent it cause I'm in it, UTP until I'm finished
Juvenile, they can't stop us (can't stop us)
And I admit it, I live it
I'll knock a baller off his pivot with this motherfuckin' choppa'

[Chorus 2x]

[50 Cent]
My twenty-inches spinnin', you always see me grinin'
And you hear niggas call me grimey (grimey)
They hit me wit' them bricks, and I ain't pay 'em shit
I'm outta town, they can't find me (find me)
When I come back around, man I'ma back 'em down
I run up bustin' that Tec mayn (Tec mayn)
If you ain't got a gun, and you can't fuckin' run
My advice is you hit the deck mayn (deck mayn)
But if you get away and come back another day
My soldiers'll leave you wet mayn (wet mayn)
Cause we know where you be, and we know where you stay
And we'll come trippin' through your set mayn (set mayn)
Man you heard what I said, now get it in your head
I ain't payin' no fuckin' debt mayn (debt mayn)
Cause you'se a middle man, but you don't understand
You'se a fuckin' fake ass connect' mayn (connect' mayn)

[Chorus 2x]


10. Back Down

[Chorus: 50 Cent]

It's easy to see when you look at me
If you look closely, 50 don't BACK DOWN
Everywhere I go both coasts wit toast
Eastside, Westside, I hold that MACK DOWN
Every little nigga you see around me
Hold a gun big enough to fuckin hold SHAQ DOWN
Next time you in the hood and see an ol G
You ask about me, the young boy don't BACK DOWN

Any living thing that cannot co-exist with the kid
Must decease existin, little nigga, now listen
Yo mami, yo papi, that bitch you chasin
Ya little dirty ass kids, I'll fuckin erase them
Your success is not enough, you wanna be hard
Knowin that, you get knocked, you get fucked in the yard
Youza poptart sweetheart, you soft in the middle
I eatcha for breakfast, the watch was an exchange for your necklace
and your boss is a bitch, if he could he would
Sell his soul for cheap, trade his +Knight+ to be Suge
You can buy cars but you can't buy respect in the hood
Maybe I'm so disrespectfu cuz to me you're a mystery
I know niggaz from ya hood, you have no history
Never sold nothin, never popped nothin, nigga stop frontin
Jay put you on, X made you hot
Now you run around like you some big shot
Ha, ha pussy...

[Chorus]

"This rap shit is all fucked up now! What are we gonna do now?
How we gonna eat man? 50 back around"
That's Ja's lil punk ass thinkin out loud
Southside, Tah died, that's just how I get down
I'm back in the game shawty, to +Rule+ and conquer
You sing for hoes and sound like the cookie monster
I'm the hardest from New York, my flow is bonkers
All the other hard niggaz, they come from Yonkers
It's been years and you had the same niggaz in the background
You never gonna sell unless Cadd Tah's crack child
Them niggaz they just SUCK, they no good
I ain't never heard a nigga say "they like them in the hood"
I'm back better than ever, on top of my game
Even them country boys sayin "50 we feelin you mayn"
Now you stay the fuck outta my zone, outta my throne
I'm New York City's own...BAD GUY (BAD GUY)

[Chorus]

I ain't tellin anyone you pussy
I ain't tellin anyone you gettin extored
It ain't over.... (G-UNIT)
I've been patently waitin to BLOWW
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the "50 Cent Show"
This is my life, my pain, my night, my gun
Now that I'm back, you can't sleep
I'm a nightmare huuhhhh
You hired cops to hold you down cuz you fear for your life
You heard about them guns I done bought, right?
I ain't goin no where, I done told you nigga
I'ma G-Unit motherfuckin solider nigga (They not gon like you)
I know, I know...ha, ha (G-UNIT)

More Lyrics of Get Rich Or Die Tryin'



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