(feat. 50 Cent) 



[H:] Yeah 

[50:] Yeah 

[H:] It's real, it's real 

[50:] Yeah 

[H:] Got 'em 



[Chorus: 50 Cent] 

Bump that - niggaz try to stunt on my clique 

Then when I get on that shit, I bring it to 'em 

where they pump at, 12-gauge Mausberg 

No shell in the head 'fore you put in work 

You gotta pump that - you done hit a nigga with it 

and you runnin, the police is comin, take my advice nigga 

Dump that - this is serious, these rap niggaz 

I'm just havin fun with it, 50 Cent, Havoc bump that 



[50 Cent:] 

My son asked, "Daddy why you carry a gun, you ain't a cop" 

I looked at him and said, "Sometimes you gotta shoot or get shot 

Wanna go to show-and-tell and show the class my glock? 

Show 'em the clip, show 'em the beam, show 'em how Daddy lean" 

In the convertible Jag, 22-inch mags 

For a high school dropout, shit, that ain't bad 

I'm ain't a Blood or a Crip, I'm doin my own thang 

G-UNIT! Shit, I done started my own gang 

I don't go that funny dance, I don't throw gang signs 

But I'm a gangsta to the core so I stay with a nine 

You think all I do is rap, then you don't know me good 

Have Smurf hangin out the sunroof to light up yo' hood 

Man, Carlito ain't never seen Blanco comin 

But if he did, you think he woulda started runnin? 

And I move with them Doublemint Twins, and two macs 

I'll leave you flat your back - BRRRAT! Take that 



[Chorus] 



[Noyd:] 

Uh-huh, aiyyo, aiyyo, aiyyo 

My life story is that gangsta thing, packin that thing 

Iced out diamond rings; fuck linen 

It's Timbs and jeans, puffin cigars, stuff it with greens 

What's fuckin with Queens? Nuttin and not a thing 

We kings of rap, shanks and gats, knuckles and bats 

Get at me, you want beef, come correct 

Stunt on any nigga in my clique-ah, you get clapped 

We sick, so quick, you be layin on your back 

Cause we don't give a fuck nigga, we love to dump 

You don't wanna get jumped, better turn yo' music up 

And bump that - cause we comin with them guns black 

And cause of the hoodrats, know where your home's at 

Fuck that, this is for my niggaz in the hoods that 

slingin them blue caps, smokin that chronic sack 

Get that paper, watch for all haters 

Snitches and them bitches and them inside traders 

Nigga fuck that 



[Chorus] 



[Havoc:] 

Yeah, yeah 

If you trippin with my niggaz 50 and Noyd 

If anybody ask me nigga them my homeboys 

When it come to drama know we pack them big gats 

(We got a ton of slugs) Bitch, and it's like that 

We them thirsty ones, no mask, we stick cats 

I never handcuff a ho, I let you whip that 

Let my money bubble, live off the kick back 

This midnight shit is serious, where your kids at? 

These streets too dangerous to let them roam 

I done seen the gulliest of 'em, cry for home 

Like a fish out of water, they gasp and shake 

I'm a friend of the jooks and the dukes and the duct tape 

Like a Down South nigga I won't stop 'til I'm "skraight" 

Walkin up the street, testin out my heat 

Uh-huh.. and as you stand in disbelief 

When it comes to the slugs I ain't cheap 

Nigga you know I... 



[Chorus]