50 Shot Ya

50 Cent

[50 Cent]
That´s the sound of the man, cockin´ that thang - that thaaaang
That´s the sound of the man, clappin´ that thang - thaaang
Yo, in my hood we was taught not to say who shot ya
See the flash, you heard the shot, you feel the burnin´, I got ya
Say a prayer for me if you care for me cuz I´m on the edge
I´m finna put a shell in a nigga head
I rock a lot of ice, I dare you to scheme on it
The fifth got a rubber grip and a beam on it
Homie that took the hit on me couldn´t shoot this
Say I´m skinny now, but I look big in the coupe-dee
My cuzin Uzi out in L.A. done tripped and do the sets again
Got shot the fuck up tryin´ to rob the wrong Mexicans
I write my lifestyle, y´all niggas is cheaters
Your lines come from feds, felons and don diva
Oh you the black hand of death, then why your name ain´t preacher
If you a pimp like kid, why them hoes don´t treat ya
If you wanna ball like Kirk, now shorty let me teach ya
This flow´s God sent, it´s bound to reach ya

Problem child, I´m familiar with problems
I know how to solve em
Semi-automatic, luger tray, revolve em
Shoot em up, rob em
In the hood we starvin, you don´t want problems
Problem child

[Bridge] [Singing]
And why can´t you be man enough
To tell me where you´re comin´ from

[50 Cent]
They say you can never repay the price for takin´ a man´s life
I´m in debt with Christ, I done did that twice
I´m nice, y´all niggas can´t hang wit fifty
+Blaaat+, y´all niggas can´t bang wit fifty
Say I´m born to rhyme, there´s a shell and a nine
Face stone and the cross, there´s a bitch I tossed
See the wounds in my skin they from a war of course
You can check C-N-N for the "War Report"
See the drama got me ridin´ with a sawed-off shottie
Catch you at the light, I blow ya ass off the Ducati
Man, niggas ain´t gon´ do me like Sammy did Gotti
I do it myself, I don´t need no help
Give me a knife, I´ll get rid of your neighborhood bully
Give me a minute, I´ll take a fuckin´ car with a pully
See the hood is the deepest stole my innocence young
Niggas jumped me cuz they couldn´t beat me one-on-one



[50 Cent]

I must´ve broke a mirror at three and had bad luck for seven
Cuz pops slid, mommy died before I turned eleven
This cities split ´posed to let black cats cross your path
The footprints in the sand is Satan carryin´ your ass
I got "God Understand Me" tattooed in my skin
When I die, come back, I´ma tattoo it again
I´m the young buck that let the gun buck
Roll the window down and say: "´Sup up, niggas get ready to duck"
My heart is a house homie, fear don´t live here
Nigga believe me when I say I don´t care
Muslims mix a lot, God studied they lessons
Even when my luck´s hard I still count my blessings
See that look in my eye, ya betta keep on steppin´
Spent time on my cell floor, to sharpen my weapon
If you pussy I´ma smell you when you come around here
Them boys in Pelican Bay couldn´t live in my tier


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