- Lyrics
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- Singer Intro
50 Cent( Curtis James Jackson III )
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300 Shots
Nigga knick knack pattywack, give a dog a bone I'm still down to sell crack got a fiends home God bless the child with a flawless flow Say gave a nigga the talent to push blow Like a pimp watch a hoe, I watch the grams go Watch the stash grow, straight cash flow
I'm a hundred time bigger than Preme in his prime 100 mill in my account and I'm still on the grind When you a'int in my clique, it's hard to shine I mean talent like this is so hard to find G-Unit
I don't dream now that I'm livin, I'm out to get it My truck bomb kitted an AK can hit it I'm a rap tycoon, I was fly in the whom So I'm gettin ass like a public bathroom I went from Rikers Island, to shows at the garden Automatic startin' in the drop got your bitch pussy fartin'
My album about to drop in 7 days But I still poke a rapper at the VMA's Kilo's in a gram, PO's be my fans That's why I'm overseas doin shows in Japan
I got Gats from the future, see-through guns So when my bullets leave the chamber I can see you run Nigga I flip my advance before I ran through it 'Cuz that money turn haters into that barmen fluid My dope be a 8, from a 1 to 10 Keepin in a cool place from Uncle Ben
You know you messin' with a nigga that do this for a livin' Put two in the street while there's two in the kitchen Put guns in niggaz mouth like 'Who's u dissin'?' We give for they knew who you was missin, nigga
You can either have a gun at the chain, or one at the brain I have hoes back of the church, hummin' ya name Even then I feel it's like cheat my men Watch God leave the sky to come and greet my men I pop niggas in the chest they never breathe again Route 20 in the fitness see the streets again
What's a man tryna wake up, who can't wake up? Back guards face straight up with kinds of make up 'Cuz every time I run, scream, pop a 3-80 I hear a mother scream 'Please not my baby!'
Quick as I see it's you, bullets will hit you, boy Your nobody so no one will miss you Queens start to kickin', it's too much to get through Leave a nigga leakin' like an Indian ritual
Who wanna run up on me they get known quick I blackout then snatch your chrome clique Leavin' jail in '91, made I'm homesick Move Pow-Fu like a Farrakhan atonement Raised in, caged in, let my ways spin Face wrapped up like a Saudi Arabian
A country nigga still lookin' for a New York hoe About to kill these niggas with this New York flow Say one nigga name homie you gon' go You in that Hot97 so New York know
I use to listen to Jada I've never listened to Joe I couldn't tell ya how now one of his verses go Seen Styles and Sheek out, doin' promo I was like 'What Up?' and they was like 'Uh, oh'
I a'int just get cold, see my block been hot 50 give me the word, niggas would have been pop Fuck a interview nigga I get into you nigga Enough hearin' 'bout what you finna do nigga
Murder at its best, this is rap at its finest You can see my verse, even if you the blindest My raps is vivid, ya bitch I hit it All ready, yeah that's right this is spaghetti
Head mob niggas, my gun bomb niggas Go 'head and shoot, my pistol nuke niggas When I let off, the whole earth feel the effects
I mix CD's and treat 'em like album shit Our albums, we treat 'em like the president elections On our champagne campaign livin' up dresses On the dance flo' the Hennessey it flow
When you fuck with G-Unit then you gon' fuckin' blow When you fuck with Mobb Deep, then bring some fuckin' hoes 'Cuz its a gang of us and we ready to go 'Cuz after the party after the party we get so drunk We forget all about the next day, hun' Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com
Get it Teflon don, AK-filled Get your mouth blown off like the hand that feeds you Yeah little motherfucker put the hammer in diesel G-Unit, Game Over, this is only a preview
Niggas shittin' on theyself gotta rock in the huggy The coke in the pot rise to the top like dougy Got chicks with a ass like Buffy, yes homie trust me Plays fuck me, kick 'em out when they try to get touchy
QB, Southside, if you wanted to Trestle Man your man is hot, you don't wanna get next to Like 50's beef is mine and mine is his See this serious, motherfuckin' ask them kids Niggas wild on the streets, scared to death to bid Sell anything that stay from the bottles and cuffs, nigga butt
You about to witness an M.O.P. thug out And for you niggas hatin' listen to the sounds of the Unit Kiss my ass with your tongue out, nigga Fuck a warden, I ring bells like a doorman
So all you motherfuckers take it easy like Sunday mornin (Get 'em up) Put 'em up, wrap ya hand or knuckle up Ground zero we never ran never will we fuck 'em up Dude you gonna get your ass banged Fuckin' with that homie Lloyd Banks Wild gun style what the fuck y'all think
Niggas ain't got nuttin' on me, everybody know that Niggas run up on a V, everybody gon' clap And if he ain't what he say, an' everybody gon' rats Just rat and catch your little body all rats
Matter'fact, I don't hang out with no lobby for rats The gun swallow me back off Bacardi and Yack I'm in the club with the snub, this the part of the track A stray from the K will take a part of ya hat
I'm gettin cake like you wouldn't believe but I'm accepted By mainstream America and good in the piece Now niggaz wanna talk all greasy (Why) Like they ain't used to open up for me in New York on TV (Ya know)
Skip all chatter and walk off Eazy A milly will make your body looker look all measly Ya bitch spotted me on the dolo and I'm low-low Damn near broke a monolo for a photo
I ain't ridin' around with a dodo that's a no-no Momma taught me better than that you go to go home Look at me now, a product of poverty I cant watch the way I gotta decide a me
The 'hoods fulla hurt but that was a robbery Critics owe me an apology, I'm probably A sixteen away from the lottery My niggas keep guns, thats one of the things I gotta be
I'm wrapped up in a dome shit 'Cuz nigga got all kinds of beef they want ya to come get I'm two steppin' with my weapon 'cuz they don't check 'em up I know niggas from 'round there and they don't check us
All of the niggas was fans when I met 'em Just waitin' in the wind for niggas to come and get 'em On my next album, I'm a have some fun wit' 'em Spank 'em all around so everybody forget 'em
They Envy, 'cuz I got the 'hood in a frenzy And I move smooth with the wooden Benzy Blend in, niggas will body ya for a pen Baby need food, baby momma need fin
You know me, New York cap on Batman whip that I got off a rap song I'm the fan with the illegal strap on Teflon an' a wife beater an' black on Its on
Wassup? This the kid, 50 Cent, man Its going down, ya heard me? Niggas got me mad, ya talk, ya niggas Got me all fucked up
I'm finna kill few of you mother fuckers man Know what I'm sayin'? Watch ya niggas say Somethin' smart out ya mouth, boy, you better stop usin' ya mouth Before I help you not be able to use ya mouth, motherfucker
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