Intro 1
A
Verse 1
A
Yo we can't stay alive forever,
so shit hit the fan
and we might as well die together,
Dm
I'm high as ever, more hoes and more cheddar, G -Unit move around with them pounds and barrettas,
A
yeah faggot, if I want it I'm gon' have it,
regardless if it's handed
to me or I gotta
Don't make a ass out of yourself
trying to stop me
I'm cocky, rap's rocky,
nigga, you sloppy
You know that I'm eight
Am
levels above you, nigga
I plug you, nigga,
I never heard of you, nigga
It's over, nigga,
Dm
I'm the wrong one to provoke
A
And rat no niggas,
it's only gon' leave you smoke
So the only thing left now
Am
is toast for these cowards
A
Am
I got no friends,
fuck most of these cowards
They pop shit till we start
approaching these cows
Dm
While we lay around dol lars,
A
Dm
they lay around flowers
Am
I issue of anxious,
A
the dog using stings to read for
Am
We flip when I call a bitch
A
like she Queen Latifah
Now all the vehicles is long enough
to stash the streetsweeper
Am
This shit gon' get uglier
A
than the masterpiece maker
Dm
We slidin' through the ruckers,
A
with pride on the chuckers
Am
So the spring break hoes
A
home from college,
when the fuckers
I ain't here to drop
knowledge on you suckers
I sick drop wilders on you fuckers
Am
Cops followin' the cuffers,
Dm
A
top dollars to discuss this
Am
Whole lotta zeros when it comes to paper
I'll blow the soul outta arrow
Dm
I'm a break for
A
I lay in the floor, buried besides
Am
Every rap ain't a star
and every plaid ain't ball buried
A
You can't tame Lloyd,
I'm smokin' by the big screen
Am
Changing the channel,
it's like I'm playin' the Gameboy
I know the watch, Bob,
A
you're in your vision
Am
But reaching, I put a dot on your head
Like it's a party with religion
While I party with a pigeon,
A
I'm blowin' a ten
Cause Bush handin' out flyers
for a party in the prison
Dm
A
I'm in a Gucci vest
with the green and red stripes
I'm the last rapper to scare niggas,
Dm
it's Craig Mack
A
Now every morning's a fast start
But it ain't a problem
gettin' dressed
Dm
Cause my closet got more
A
aisles than paths
And I'm runnin' when
we startin' to breathe
Dm
A lead with 12 shells in your mouth
A
like a carton of eggs
I'm a young pimp partin' my age,
I don't got long hair
But if I did, she'd be partin' my braids
Dm
A
You just find out what club they at
Am
Take em with us and run a train
on em like a subway map
A
Yeah, Advance is a grey Acra
See these record labels
Am
got most artists
Dm
Gettin' fucked like the gay rapper
A
I go to college on the tour
Am
I'm goin' down in history, nigga
A
Next to Wallace and Shakur,
Dm
keepin' ammo clean
Am
G
Am
Text polished in the drawer
Cameras by the handprints
that monitor the floor
A
Asus4
A
You heard of me, fresh out of surgery
Am
Flashy as a fuck,
A
you gon' have to murder me
Dm
A
Dm
Burglary, we leavin' with your Nikes,
Am
burgundy
White tee, burgundy,
A
you match now, back down
Niggas better hate you,
love you when you disappear
Catch me on the boat,
with weed, smoke, and fishin' gear
Heavy when I talk,
Am
see notes from different years
Bezzy in the rope,
remotes and liftin' chairs
A
We ain't rich,
Dm
we'll be glad to snatch it
Am
I'll send cars to your crib
A
like I'm a cab dispatcher
Dm
You better off with
these stupid guys
Lookin' for a coupe to drive,
G
Am
you ain't gettin' nothin'
A
but your french fries super -sized
Am
Dm
It's a damn shame y 'all still local,
A
I'm in a million -dollar studio
Dm
A
layin' my vocals, nigga
Asus4
A
Am
You're still in the projects, nigga
You ain't goin' nowhere
Dm
You gon' fuckin' be there
Am
for the rest of your motherfuckin' life
And your mama say,
A
I'm supposed to tell you
somethin'
To encourage you, somethin' positive
Alright, well I ain't gon' lie
to you, motherfucker
You ain't goin' nowhere
Get yourself a bin, get on the fuckin' curb
A
Get on the fuckin' dirtbag
When You Hear That
50 Cent, Tony Yayo
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