- Song Name: 50 Shot Ya
- Artist Name: 50 Cent
- Album: Bulletproof, Vol. 4
- Songwriters: Curtis Jackson, George Spivey, James Brown, Lynne Collins
- Release Date: 2008.02.23
LYRICS FOR "50 Shot Ya"
Yo
What the f*** poppin'
This the Drama King
Yo who there
(Yeah
Muthafucka
(What's up
Uh
(Heh
And I'll smack the f*****' s*** out your favorite DJ man
Y'all know what the f*** it is
(Yeah
Yeah
(Yeah
Yo
You handle the b****-ass rap niggas
I'ma handle the b****-ass DJ niggas
(Alright
We gon' bring justice to the game
(That's how we gon' put it down)
Straight muthafuckas
That's the sound of the man
That's the sound of the man
Yo
See the flash
Say a prayer for me if you care for me 'cause I'm on the edge
I'm finna put a shell in a nigga head
I rock a lot of ice
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
My cuzin Uzi out in L.A. done tripped and do the sets again
Got shot the f*** up tryin' to rob the wrong Mexicans
I write my lifestyle
Your lines come from feds
Oh you the black hand of death
Then why your name ain't preacher
If you a pimp like kid
If you wanna ball like Kirk
This flow's God sent
Problem child
I know how to solve 'em
Semi-automatic
Shoot 'em up
In the hood we starvin'
Problem child
And why can't you be man enough
To tell me where you're comin' from?
They say you can never repay the price for takin' a man's life
I'm in debt with Christ
I'm nice
Blaaat
Say I'm born to rhyme
Face stone and the cross
See the wounds in my skin they from a war of course
You can check CNN for the
See the drama got me ridin' with a sawed-off shottie
Catch you at the light
Man
I do it myself
Give me a knife
Give me a minute
See the hood is the deepest stole my innocence young
Niggas jumped me 'cause they couldn't beat me one-on-one
Problem child
I know how to solve 'em
Semi-automatic
Shoot 'em up
In the hood we starvin'
Problem child
And why can't you be man enough
To tell me where you're comin' from?
I must've broke a mirror at three and had bad luck for seven
'Cause pops slid
This cities split 'posed to let black cats cross your path
The footprints in the sand is Satan carryin' your ass
I got
When I die
I'm the young buck that let the gun buck
Roll the window down and say
My heart is a house homie
Nigga believe me when I say I don't care
Muslims mix a lot
Even when my luck's hard I still count my blessings
See that look in my eye
Spent time on my cell floor
If you pussy I'ma smell you when you come around here
Them boys in Pelican Bay couldn't live in my tier
Problem child
I know how to solve 'em
Semi-automatic
Shoot 'em up
In the hood we starvin'
Problem child
© 50 CENT MUSIC
© NOTTING DALE SONGS INC
© UNIVERSAL MUSIC CORP.