Lyrics I Don't Need 'Em - 50 Cent

I Don't Need 'Em - 50 Cent
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song I Don't Need 'Em, artist - 50 Cent. Album song The Massacre, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.2003
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Aftermath, Interscope, Shady Records
Song language: English

I Don't Need 'Em

Yeah, it is what it is man
Uh-huh
Sirens flashin you know the routine, the crime scene taped off
It started out a robbery, they blew half his face off
They seen him shinin, cross full of diamonds he bought grindin
His first slip off the ladder of success he was climbin
The D’s came through, askin niggaz if they know what happened
Somehow my name end up in anything that involves clappin
Detectives at my mama crib, they say they wanna question me They put me in a lineup last time and they arrested me When it come to cookin coke, they know I got the recipe
I turn a quarter to a half, that’s why they mess with me
I’m the neighborhood pusher, I move packs to make stacks
A little weed, a little X, a little H, little crack
Figure, I’ll push it to the limit, take the shit to the max
Navy blue vest on, navy blue Yankee hat
Calm, in my palm’s fully loaded firearm
First to let off last to run, everytime it’s on I tell niggaz to suck my dick, get the fuck out my face
Cause I don’t need 'em
Cause they’re, never around, when I’m down
Shot and I’m bleedin
(What? Nigga is there. is there a motherfuckin problem nigga?)
(Oh, yeah that’s what I, I thought so. pussy!)
Niggaz be talkin 'bout me, they always callin me crazy
Fuck them O.G.
niggaz, they stuck in the 80's
Sayin they gon’do me somethin, now you know that’s a lie
Nigga you look at me wrong I let the hammer fly
I’m rich, I still wake up, with crime on my mind
Queens nigga put it down like Pappy Mason in his prime
When I say move, nigga move, or get caught in the crossfire
I prevents runnin, cut my fuckin hand on the barbed wire
This shit’s crazy, it’s just a different day it’s the same shit
Hollow-tip partin yo’head, leave your whole fuckin brain split
They sick, they see me in that Aston Martin
What’s the matter?
They can’t get that hooptie started
Thought they was grindin, well God damn, where that money at?
Thought you was puffed up, cause you was lettin paper stack
You ain’t a hustler, matter fact, youse a buster
I don’t trust ya, I should send niggaz to touch ya
(What? Who say they gon’do somethin to me?)
(Must be out your rabbit-ass mind, fuck around kill one of these niggaz)

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Artist lyrics: 50 Cent