Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song I'm Supposed To Die Tonight, 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'm Supposed To Die Tonight |
Ah-ha man! |
Ay you know where them niggaz be at right? |
Take me to 'em |
All through the hood I keep hearin niggaz sayin |
— I'm supposed to die tonight |
Niggaz done put a hit out and they talkin like the shit okay |
— I'm down to ride tonight |
We rollin, whip stolen, AK loaded |
— I'm down to ride tonight |
Weed smokin, straight loc’n, lockin loadin |
— Somebody gon’die tonight |
This is nuttin new, I been in this position before |
Grandma crib, niggaz outside of her door |
Different day same shit, old mac new clip |
32 hollow-tips, gloves, no rubber grip |
I’m a boss, but niggaz never show no respect |
I catch 'em slippin, I’ll have 'em tongue-kissin my tec |
Gwan come, test me, pussy bwoy, don’t try it Police response never fast enough to shots fired |
Don’t be stupid, find out who you fuckin with son |
'Fore we find out where yo’bitch get her hair and nails done |
It’s elementary, life is but a dream |
You know row row your boat, your blood forms a stream |
After you get hit, you shoulda thought about the shit |
You took that paper you take a life or yo’life get took bitch |
Sometimes I sit and look at life from a different angle |
Don’t know if I’m God’s child or I’m Satan’s angel |
In 2002, if you asked me to make a wish |
I simply woulda wished that my music would be a hit |
Big said, Damn — niggaz wanna stick me for my paper |
And pray for my downfall, I understand it all |
But me, I’m a little more flashy a nigga |
So chances are, I’ma have to blast me a nigga |
I’m on that Kevlar and vest shit, that wild wild West shit |
There’s eighty-one one carat stones in my necklace |
I shine so hard, I make motherfuckers wan’kill me Every projects in every hood I go, they feel me Know it sounds like rap, but this shit is real B I don’t talk that rich shit, but nigga I’m filthy |
When I come out to play, and my mob ain’t with me You can bet your bottom dollar that revolver with me Homeboy, frontin on me’ll shorten your lifespan |
Hold the mic with my left, my knife in my right hand |
YEAH! |