| It’s 50 Cent and S-N double O-P
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| You don’t want no snoop and you don’t want it with me
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| Everytime I come around they like «Oh No»
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| I get to trippin; |
| slap the clip up in my 44
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| Shit I been thru in my hood made my heart cold
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| I get to poppin off that thang like I’m loco
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| No sense in coppin pleas when you see my knife out (knife out)
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| Motherfuckers light out (light out)
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| Here come snoop, uh (oh shit) (Oh No)
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| Sup nigga, sup now huh? |
| (Oh No)
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| Ricky Ticky Timble, C’s is the symbol
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| Courdoroy khakis, stacies & brimmed up
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| Straight razors just keep you trimmed up
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| 1−8-7, oh yeah, now you remember
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| He’s electrifyin & original
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| So gangster, Snoop Dogg the criminal
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| The one you hate to love, in the club, in the cut
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| Hugged up wit yo bitch, nigga I don’t give a shit
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| You betta check dat ho, that’s what wreckin G
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| Now step your game down, cuz ain’t no checkin me
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| You’ll be respecting me until I leave this room
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| Or my gat’ll go boom, bullets go zoom
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| Now your name is on a tomb
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| They pourin out liquor with no room to consume, silly bafoon
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| I pop niggas like balloons, I ain’t feelin em
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| Walkin in my big blue chucks cuz I’m killin em
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| Hey what up cuz, it’s 50 Cent;
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| What’s happin nigga?
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| Ever since the moment I was born I been dyin (yea)
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| Hundred miles an hour pulse flyin wit my eye… an
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| He who fears fate lives like coward
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| You go against me, you’ll be devoured
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| Then you get to poppin you’ll have change of heart
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| I hit your chest a couple times you’ll have to change your heart
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| Have doc usin donors, dead niggas wit spare parts
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| You come back wit lungs of a snicth, and the heart of dead nark
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| Niggas never see the light till spark
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| Then they bleed, it get cold, then shit get dark
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| You can call me the beast from the east, I run these streets
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| You can eat hollow tip shells or you can work for me
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| These rap niggas crazy, my mercy has limits
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| Push me a hundred revolvers’ll get to spinnin
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| Your services are no longer needed; |
| rock-a-bye baby
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| My bitch will do it to you with a lil 380 (yea)
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| I’m bailin thru the door again
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| Let momo pour again
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| Me and my ho again
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| Yea she got the four up in this motherfucker
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| And I’mma bust it if you try to rush us or touch us or sucka ducka us
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| It’ll crack off, now back off -real slow
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| An if you don’t know, I never hesitate to shoot a ho
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| Yea that’s my reputation — you test my patience &
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| You & your fam — bam — gon hear the blam, blam
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| Goddammit I’m at it again
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| They done let bitch niggas up outta the pen
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| And now he lookin for me — what the heck — my game is built on respect
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| Now I’m breathin down your motherfuckin neck
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| I dumps till my clip is empty
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| I’m headin down willshire to send the scent
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| And when I get there don’t ask who sent me
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| Just take dem shots and drop it like it hot
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| Bitch nigga
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| Ha-ha-ha
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| Yea nigga
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| Just when you though I was gone
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| Slide back up on you like the wind nigga
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| With the G, G, G, G, G, G, G-UNIT |