| Dre, niggas think we’re bullshittin'!
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| Yeah!
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| Yeeaaaah!
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| Nigga try me son, he best have the heat on him!
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| Want my eyes closed, get to moppin' the street with him!
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| Well I put your body in a baaaaag!
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| Front on me, I’m on ya aaaaass!
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| I bring money to my niggas, that bring death to my enemies!
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| I bring money to my niggas, that bring death to my enemies!
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| Nigga front on me, the goons and goblins come out
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| Wishmaster hundred shot drums’ll run out!
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| They dumb out, you heard of me
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| They call me big homie!
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| Me I make the register ring! |
| — I'm the cash can!
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| They make the hammers ring! |
| — They on ya ass now!
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| Hair trigger, stare nigga, yeah niggas’ll flip!
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| Six?, let it off at your will
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| Here I is, where the money is, I still get biz!
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| D’s know about the beef! |
| — You gon' still get did!
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| It be your tombstone and your fuckin' grave they dig!
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| Have that ass in the precinct tryna talk to the pigs
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| I’m like Damien nigga! |
| — When I start gettin' loose on ya!
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| Closest thing to Lucifer, you think you got a noose on ya!
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| I make it hard to breathe!
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| I come with your hustle, air it out! |
| — Make it hard to eat!
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| Have you lookin' both ways
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| Like you crossin' the street!
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| Yeah! |
| — Niggas send me the wrong message, we gon' fucking kill the messenger
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| Your whole clique! |
| — Hollowtips'll tear up the best of ya!
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| This ain’t the «Carter"nigga, THIS IS SPARTA!
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| IT’S HARDER! |
| I DIE AND BE A MARTYR, RESPECT ME LIKE YOUR FATHER!
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| Let off a clip or let a case off
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| I have your pussy ass runnin' like a race horse!
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| Follow orders now! |
| — Yay' shoot his «Face Off»
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| You can have one, blast one, it’s mad fun!
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| See how when you listen to me all of the cash gone
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| I was born with the Tec! |
| — It's a birth defect!
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| I was concieved in the bins, ended up in a Benz
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| This is what happens when have nots turn into sasquatch!
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| Let the gat pop, boogie down on the back blocks
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| It’s horrific! |
| — Nah it’s terrific!
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| I got it if you sniff it, go head nigga twist it
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| Get lifted!
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| Goddamn I’m gifted!
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| Yeah! |
| — I tell 'em ride on 'em! |
| — Then they ride on 'em!
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| Get the line on 'em and squeeze the .9 on 'em!
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| Head shot, .40-Glock blow his mind on him
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| They say ain’t not a jooks, leave the shines on 'em;
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| Now you can watch me! |
| — Nigga like the police watch me!
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| I move proper! |
| — Go ahead catch a shell tryna stop me!
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| That 4−30 Spider, carbon fibre
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| And my dog is like al qaeda natural fighter!
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| Rapid fire, you’re sweet like apple cider,
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| The Mack’ll fire, mask like Michael Myers!
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| It’s off the wire! |
| — When I get on my bullshit
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| No smiles, no laughs, you gets no pass!
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| You can explain to my niggas while they whoop yo' ass
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| My hands itch when the money comes, it’s hard to explain it!
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| Last time I itched like this, a truckload came in
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| Get money, get bread, that’s what I do kid! |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Death To My Enemies , by - 50 Cent. Song from the album Before I Self-Destruct, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп