a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

who shot ya? (freestyle) - 50 cent lyrics

[intro]
yo, yo
uh huh, yeah, uh, uh
uh huh, what, what, yo

[verse 1]
i breathe comfortable when i use the slow flow
f*ckin’ your ho on the floor of my condo
go rough fo sho when i hear ????
better run too n*gga, police behind yo
mix a lil hash, sheesh in with the hydro
you ain’t got to tell me i’m hot, n*gga i know
if it’s beef i’ma clap me a n*gga and get low
i ain’t with doin’ the hit if it ain’t for no real dough
give me the money first, i be back with the blow
sh*t ain’t pumpin’ out here man it’s movin’ mad slow
n*gga you know you owe, you better give me my dough
or get hit with six sh*lls from the big fo fo
look i’m destined to be successful, son i bless you
catch you on a late night wit a trey*a special
yo rough, roll the weed while i tell ’em what i need
i need cream by the stacks, sh*lls for the mac
rims for the ac’ and a b*tch to blow her back
i need the coke to come back, mad time on a jack
i got the fendi sweaters, all i need is the hats
i need the police to chill, stay the f*ck off my back
see a n*gga in a benz, swear he peddlin’ crack
i need a stash box dog, so i could stash the gat
i need a stadium light to leave ’em blind as a bat
flippin’ from under my plate when i’m runnin’ from jake
i make no mistakes, son i need extra papes
my man up north, he need the new kid capri tape
i’m physically fit, nah for real, son i’m in shape
i need a bad spanish b*tch to take me out on a date
one time for your motherf*ckin’ mind
[interlude]
one time, uh, yo, yo
f*ck that son, i’ma get loose on this sh*t one time man
f*ck this sh*t, yo

[verse 2]
n*gga if you ain’t worth a mill, you ain’t far from broke
got enough heart to sell weed but you scared of dope
i wouldn’t snitch on a n*gga if the feds bribe me
yo ass ah hit more notes than ron isley
after 3 summers in the jail i thought life was hard
some n*ggas start fightin’, some n*ggas found god
you know me, i start sellin’ leak in the yard
yo, i ran into n*ggas who used to have hummers
big as h*ll in the joint wearin’ ’86 numbers
d*mn dog, you been in here that long?
you could think that, but say that and yo’ ass is dead wrong
a convo is only three words, “yo what up”
you ain’t gotta work out to leave this b*tch cut up
let a n*gga find out you on some goin’ home sh*t
and you tryna bounce wit out payin’ a loan sh*t
i watch n*ggas beat cases on the strength of they cream
after witnesses disappear on the strength of they team

[interlude]
yo, yo, yo ,yo, yo
feel me on this sh*t
yo, yo
[verse 3]
i’m hard as h*ll to get along wit’
so it never fails, a n*gga i got beef with end up in the same jail
he had a l rolled in bible paper, blowin’ the lye
i sent him a lil kite just to be blowin’ his high
and when i shot you in new york, why would i box you now?
i catch you goin’ to sick call i’ma ox you down
one reason i

[outro]
yo, yo
ayo
f*ck that sha, let that sh*t play, yo son
let that sh*t play son, f*ck that
n*gga i’ma ringer n*gga
i’ma professional muh’

- 50 cent lyrics

Random Song Lyrics :

Popular