Music Video

50 Shot Ya feat. 50 Cent - DJ Kay Slay - The Streetsweeper Vol. 1
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Credits

COMPOSITION & LYRICS
K. Grayson
K. Grayson
Songwriter

Lyrics

Yo, yo, yo What the fuck poppin' man This the Drama King man Yo who there, who dat, who there man? (Yeah, yeah, it's 50 Cent nigga) Muthafucka (What's up man) Uh, Harlem to Queens muthafuckas (Heh, What's up nigga) And I'll smack the fuckin' shit out your favorite DJ man Y'all know what the fuck it is man (Yeah, yeah) (And, and say somethin ya bitch-ass nigga) Yeah, street justice muthafucka (Yeah, go ahead, say something) Yo, yo, check it out fifty You handle the bitch-ass rap niggas I'mma handle the bitch-ass DJ niggas (Alright, 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, cockin' that thang - that thaaaang That's the sound of the man, clappin' that thang - thaaang Yo, in my hood we was taught not to say who shot ya See the flash, you heard the shot, you feel the burnin', I got ya Say a prayer for me if you care for me cuz I'm on the edge I'm finna put a shell in a nigga head I rock a lot of ice, I dare you to scheme on it The fifth got a rubber grip and a beam on it Homie that took the hit on me couldn't shoot They say I'm skinny now, but I look big in a coupe My cousin Uzi out in L.A. done tripped and do the sets again Got shot the fuck up tryin' to rob the wrong Mexicans I write my lifestyle, y'all niggas is cheaters Your lines come from feds, felons and don diva Oh you the black hand of death, then why your name ain't preacher If you a pimp like Ken why them hoes don't treat ya? If you wanna ball like Kirk, now shorty let me teach ya This flow's God sent, it's bound to reach ya Problem child, I'm familiar with problems I know how to solve em Semi-automatic, luger tray, revolve em Shoot em up, rob em In the hood we starvin, you don't want problems 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 done did that twice I'm nice, y'all niggas can't hang wit fifty +Blaaat+, y'all niggas can't bang wit fifty For every bar in the rhyme, there's a shell and a nine For every stone in the cross, there's a bitch I tossed See the wounds in my skin they from a war of course You can check C-N-N for the "War Report" See the drama got me ridin' with a sawed-off shottie Catch you at the light, I blow ya ass off the Ducati Man, niggas ain't gon' do me like Sammy did Gotti I'll do it myself, I don't need no help Give me a knife, I'll get rid of your neighborhood bully Give me a minute, I'll take a fuckin' car with a pully See the hood is the deepest stole my innocence young Niggas jumped me cuz they couldn't beat me one-on-one I must've broke a mirror at three and had bad luck for seven Cuz pops slid, mommy died before I turned eleven This cities split 'posed to let black cats cross your path The footprints in the sand is Satan carryin' your ass I got "God Understand Me" tattooed in my skin When I die, come back, I'mma tattoo it again I'm the young buck that let the gun buck Roll the window down and say: "'Wassup", niggas get ready to duck My heart is a house homie, If you don't live here Nigga believe me when I say I don't care Muslims mix a lot, God studied they lessons Even when my luck's hard I still count my blessings See that look in my eye, ya betta keep on steppin' Spent time on my cell floor, to sharpen my weapon If you pussy I'mma smell you when you come around here Them boys in Pelican Bay couldn't live in my tier
Writer(s): James Brown, Curtis Jackson, Lynne Collins Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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