| Hey Em, you know you my favorite white boy, right?
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| I, I owe you for this one
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| I been patiently waiting for a track to explode on (Yeah!)
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| You can stunt if you want and ya ass’ll get rolled on (It's Fifty!)
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| If it feels like my flow has been hot for so long (Yeah!)
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| If you thinking I’m a fuckin fall off ya so wrong (It's Fifty!)
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| I’m innocent in my head, like a baby born dead
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| Destination heaven
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| Sittin politic with passengers from nine eleven
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| The Lord’s blessins leave me lyrically inclined
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| Shit I ain’t even got to try to shine
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| God’s the seamstress that tailor fitted my pain
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| I got scriptures in my brain I could spit at yo dame
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| Straight out the good book, look, niggas is shook
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| Fifty fear no man, Warrior, swingin swords like Conan
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| Picture me, pen in hand writin lines knowin the Source’ll quote it When I die, they’ll read this and say a genius wrote it I grew up without my pops, should that make me bitter?
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| I caught cases I copped out, does that make me a quitter?
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| In this white man’s world, I’m similar to a squirrel
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| Lookin for a slut wit a nice butt to get a nut
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| If I get shot today my phone’ll stop ringin again
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| These industry niggas ain’t friends, they know how to pretend
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| — repeat 2X
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| If ya patiently waitin to make it through all the hatin
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| Debatin whether or not you can even weather the storm
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| Unless you lay on the table they operatin to save you
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| It’s like an angel came to you sent from the heavens above
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| They think they crazy but they ain’t crazy, let’s face it Shit basically they just playin sick
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| They ain’t shit, they ain’t sayin shit, spray em’fifty
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| A to the K get in the way I’ll bring Dre and them wit me And turn this day into fuckin mayhem, you stayin wit me?
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| Don’t let me lose you, I’m not tryna confuse you
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| When I let loose wit this uzi and just shoot through your Isuzu
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| You get the messege? |
| Am I gettin through to you?
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| You know what’s comin, you motherfuckers don’t even know, do you?
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| Take some Big and some Pac and you mix em’up in a pot
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| Sprinkle a little Big L on top, what the fuck do you got?
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| You got the realest and illest killas tied up in a knot
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| The juggernauts of this rap shit, like it or not
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| It’s like a fight to the top just to see who’d die for the spot
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| You put ya life in this, nothin like survivin a shot
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| Y’all know what time it is, soon as fifty signs on this dot
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| Shit what you know about death threats, cause I get a lot
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| Shady Records was eighty seconds away from the towers
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| Them cowards fucked wit the wrong building, they meant to hit ours
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| Better evacuate all children, its nuclear showers
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| There’s nothin spookier
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| Ya now about to witness the power of fuckin fifty
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| If the gun spark I’ll hear all of the shots go off
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| It’s fifty, they say it’s fifty
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| See a nigga layed out wit his fuckin top blown off
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| It’s fifty, man that wasn’t fifty
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| Don’t holla my name
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| You shouldn’t throw stones if you live in a glass house
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| And if you got a glass jaw you should watch yo mouth
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| Cause I’ll break yo face
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| Have yo ass runnin, mumblin to the jake
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| You goin ‘gainst me dog, you makin a mistake, I’ll split ya Leave ya lookin like the Michael Jackson jackets wit all them zippers
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| I’m the boss on this boat, you can call me skipper
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| The way I turn the money over, you should call me flipper
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| Yo bitch a regular bitch, you callin her wifey
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| I fucked and feed her fast food, you keeping her icey
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| I’m down to sell records but not my soul
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| Snoop said this in ninety four, «We don’t love them hoes»
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| I got pennies for my thoughts now I’m rich
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| See the twenties spinnin lookin mean on the six
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| Niggas wearin flags cause the colors match they clothes
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| They get caught in the wrong hood, they get filled up wit holes
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| — repeat 2X |