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) |