music4lover

• Mp3 Title:“Your Lifes On The Line”
• Album: << Power Of The Dollar >>
• Singer: 50 cent
• Company:Columbia Records

Nobody likes me
Nobody likes me
But that’s ok
Cuz I don’t like yall anyway
An I don’t like yall anyway
Fuck all yall My watch talk to me
My whip talk to me
My gat talk for me
BLAW what up homie
The bitches who don’t know me
They wanna blow me
Cuz the shit I floss with
be sayin everything for me
I came into rap humbly
I don’t give a fuck now
I’ll serve anybody
like niggas who hustle uptown
The coke price go up
Cats just come down
The D’s run in my crib
I’m nowhere to be found
Niggas who hustle for me
They don’t even stash cracks
They keep it on em
Right there in they ass crack
I don’t like a nigga
I don’t pretend to
I’ll Have the paramedics wrappin
Your fuckin’ head like a Hindu
Look I ain’t goin nowhere
So be used to me
OG’s look at me
An see I’m what they used to be
I’m that nigga that sold coke
The nigga that sold dope
The nigga that shot dice
Went broke an sold soap
The thug that pop shit
The thug that pop myth’s
The thug that went from 3
To a whole brick
Nigga ain’t in his right mind
Goin against me
My bitches pray at the words
That make a blind man see
Scream Muurdaaa
I don’t believe you
Muurdaaa
Fuck around an leave you
Muurdaaa
I don’t believe you
Murda murda
Your life’s on the line
Ya’ll niggas don’t
Want no parts of me
I’m tryin to figure out
How ya’ll started me
You gon’ make me
Catch you on a late night
Pop shots with the fifth
Then slide off in the six
I’m not a marksman while sparkin
So 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 says
She on my dick
Its no coincidence
Niggas who fuck wit me
Get shot up blaw blaw
I’ll do a Cali style
Drive by an tear your block up
You soft duke
You puttin up a crazy front
I stay wit the mack
Them niggas tried to blaze me once
In the hood they’re like Damn
50 really spit it 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 playa in this game
Play your part, son
Scream Muurdaaa
I don’t believe you
Muurdaaa
Fuck around an leave you
Muurdaaa
I don’t believe you
Murda murda
Your life’s on the line
These cats always
Escape reality when they rhyme
Thats why they write about bricks
An only dealt with dimes
Leave it to them
An they say they got a fast car
Nascar
Truck with a crash bar
An TVs in the dash Pa
See them in the five
With stock rims
I just laugh Pa
I catch stunts
When I ain’t tryin
I ain’t lyin
I sip Don P til I spit up
Keep my wrist lit up
Get out of line
Ill get you hit up
Now if you say my name
In your rhymes
You better watch what you say
You get carried away
You could get shot
An carried away
Now here’s a list of MCs
That could kill you in eight bars
50 ummm
JayZ and Nas
I ma say this shit now
An’never again
We ain’t buddies
We ain’t partners
An we damn sure ain’t friends
The games you playin
You get killed like that
Actin like you all hard
You ain’t built like that
See me when you see me nigga
What What
Scream Muurdaaa
I don’t believe you
Muurdaaa
Fuck around an leave you
Muurdaaa
I don’t believe you
Murda murda
Your life’s on the line
Ya’ll niggas don’t
Want no parts of me
I’m tryin to figure out
How ya’ll started me
You gon make me
Catch you on a late night
Pop shots with the fifth then slide off in the six