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50 Cent - Your Life's on the Line lyrics
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 Niggas 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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