- Lyrics
- Album list
- Singer Intro
50 Cent( Curtis James Jackson III )
-
11 Ya Life's On The Line
Nobody likes me
Nobody likes me, but that's okay Cause 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 What up homie For bitches who don't know me
They want to blow me 'cause 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 The bitch who hustle for me, they don't 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 fucking head like a Hindu Look, I ain't going 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, going against me
My picture's painted through words that make a blind man see 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 trying to 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 Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com I do a Cali style drive by and tear ya block up You soft through, be putting up a crazy front I stay wit the Mac, 'cause 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 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!) 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 trying I ain't lying, I sit Don P til I split up Keep my rent split up Get outta line, I get you hit up 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 um, 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 playing, you get killed like that Acting like you all hard, you ain't built like that
See me when you see me nigga, one 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 trying to 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 the song is the cleanish version the lyrics are the origonal
-
|