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50 cent - that ain't gangsta lyrics
how you gonna take this? like a man or a b-tch?
you gon’ get it on n-gg- or you gon’ snitch?
i represent n-gg-s in the hood gettin’ rich
man, i stack chips and i unload clips
after 3 summers in the joint i thought life was hard
some n-gg-s started fightin’, some n-gg-s found god
you know me, started sellin’ leek in the yard
yo, i ran into n-gg-s who used to have hummers big as h-ll
in the joint wearin’ ’86 numbers d-mn dog, you been in here that long?
you could think that but say that and yo’ -ss is dead wrong
a convoy is only three words, “yo whattup”
you ain’t gotta work out to leave this b-tch cut up
let a n-gg- find out you on some goin’ home sh-t
and you tryin’ to bounce without payin’ a loan, sh-t
some n-gg-s beat cases on the strength of they cream
after the witnesses disappeared on the strength of they team
i’m hard as h-ll to get along wit’ so it never fails
a n-gg- i got beef with end up in the same jail
he had a l rolled in bible paper blowin’ the lye
i sent him a little kite just to be blowin’ his high
and when i shot you in new york why would i box you now?
if i catch you in the yard i’ma ox you down
n-gg-s you think is real really can’t hold they own
i’ll have ’em on some e.t. sh-t tryin’ to phone home
in here a gem star is like a nine milly chrome
it’s similar, in fact they’ll both split ya dome
scars are souvenirs, n-gg-s always take ’em home.
you got blown over the jack?
(that ain’t gangsta)
your man ran when you got clapped?
(that ain’t gangsta)
rockin’ a vest with no gat?
(that ain’t gangsta)
you only a thug when you rap?
(that ain’t gangsta)
n-gg-s jocked you for your track?
(that ain’t gangsta)
you ran to other thugs to get it back?
(that ain’t gangsta)
n-gg-s ran off with your packs?
(that ain’t gangsta)
if you ain’t bustin’ ya gat
(that ain’t gangsta)
you’d call me an animal if you seen me livin’ on lock
i stay in a box cats be shook when i’m visitin’ pop-ulation
when i walk by, n-gg-s like, “fifty don’t play son”
yeah, somethin’ really wrong with that n-gg-
max out, i’m goin’ straight for the glock
bust a u-turn, i’m goin’ straight to the block
the things that’ll happen if n-gg-s say i can’t eat
down goes the window, out goes the heat
i’ll make the whole block look like a f-ckin’ track meet
some get it in the leg, some get it in the back
some get it in the foot, bleed all over their air max
n-gg- pump my packs or pay poor tax
it’s extortion, it happens in the hood often
claim more lives than choices, free abortions
rich nice says i got a problem with the dice
’cause i put the t-tle to the benz on the line twice
i rock sh-t ’cause i stay on that block sh-t
that 9mm ruger to your knot sh-t
see the difference is i’m real and you not, kid
i still stash crack money in my sock, sh-t
y’all n-gg-s wanna pop sh-t? i pop clips
leave with your blood on my mink in the drop six
guiliani and pataki can’t stop this
since ’86 my whole clique pop criss.
you got blown over the jack?
(that ain’t gangsta)
your man ran when you got clapped?
(that ain’t gangsta)
rockin’ a vest with no gat?
(that ain’t gangsta)
you only a thug when you rap?
(that ain’t gangsta)
n-gg-s jocked you for your track?
(that ain’t gangsta)
you ran to other thugs to get it back?
(that ain’t gangsta)
n-gg-s ran off with your packs?
(that ain’t gangsta)
if you ain’t bustin’ ya gat
(that ain’t gangsta)
5, 5, 1 blap, blap
1, 3, 4 blap, blap
what the f-ck you know about that?
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