(feat. 50 Cent, G-Unit)



[50 Cent] G-UNIT!  Haha.. haha



[Chorus x2: 50 Cent]

If, some shots should happen to go off tonight

Don't worry about me, I'll be aight

Niggaz can waste ten while firin at me

Cause I'm God's child, there's angels around me



[Young Buck]

Life's a bitch and then you die, this couldn't be worse

I either don't eat this week, or snatch this purse

Clip hangin out the side of my Karl Kani

My eyes bloodshot red, I'm high but LET'S RIDE!

I ain't scared, if I die it was meant to be

He might send for you, before he send for me

Gun-butt you with the back of the baretta

The three-fifty-seven or, the black mac-11

We drive bulletproof Coupes nigga, go on take your shot

We used to shoot hoops nigga, now we shoot up blocks

Got them shells with them green tips just for y'all

You can run but they comin through them country walls

Bang dropped me off and show me where he live at

Think he tough?  I'ma put six in his six-pack

When you hear that click-clack bitch better get back quick

One to the chest make niggaz do backflips



[Chorus]



[Lloyd Banks]

You don't think I know you niggaz want me to get murked

Get lowered in the dirt in all black with a button-downed shirt

Cold with two to the dome - the little niggaz

don't get to see Disneyland, they'll settle for a funeral home

You don't need hoes to know that the lead's hot

I'm prepared for anything tonight as long as it's not a headshot

The bigger the rim, the bigger the tire

Hollow tips'll make him feel like a nigga on fire

Everybody gotta go, it's the truth

So I figure while I'm waitin on my turn I'ma blow up the booth

I seen niggaz in wheelchairs, eye patches and crutches

Arm slings that came home to haze and dutches

We can go there but need I shoot

Put some holes in your Fila suit, you probably hurl when you see my Coupe

I play the hood all the time cause I don't give a fuck

You can shoot me down but as long as I keep gettin up, WHAT!



[Chorus]



[50 Cent]

Shootout shots ricochet, dots in that nigga dere

When your time's up, your time's up, this is real shit

On my balls 'til my number calls, say a prayer

hopin God hear - look, I don't fear man

Wanna bang out let's bang out, I don't care man

A eye for an eye, my perfect to perfections

They have me sprayin automatics in every direction

Call me Louie Loco, nut case, oh no

I'm more like the kid that put the game in a chokehold

You stunt and I stop it, I'm makin a profit

Every time you hear my vo-cals comin out them lo-lo's

From LA to NY, on the red-eye

Teflon in my luggage, you gotta love it, I'm thuggin

My street slang, my penitentiary posture

Got me out sellin niggaz whole fuckin rosters

I'm big in New York, like B.I.G.

Plus I runs with D-R-E



[Chorus]