[Verse 1] How you gonna take this? like a Man or a bitch? you gon' get it on nigga or you gon' snitch? I represent niggas in the hood gettin' rich man, I stack chips and I unload clips after 3 Summers in the joint I thought life was hard some niggas started fightin', some niggas found God you know me, started sellin' leek in the yard yo, I ran into niggas who used to have Hummers big as Hell in the joint wearin' '86 numbers damm Dog, you been in here that long? you could think that, but say that and yo' ass is dead wrong a convo is only three words, "yo whattup" you ain't gotta work out to leave this bitch cut up let a nigga find out you on some goin' home shit and you tryin' to bounce without payin' a loan, shit some niggas beat cases on the strength of they cream after the witnesses disappeared on the strength of they team I'm hard as Hell to get along wit' so it never fails a nigga I got beef with end up in the same jail he had a L rolled in bible paper blowin' the lye I sent him a little kite just to be blowin' his high and when I shot you in NewYork why would I box you now? If I catch you in the yard I'm'a ox you down niggas you think is real really can't hold they own I'll have 'em on some E.T. shit tryin' to phone home in here a gemstar is like a Nine Milly chrome it's similar, infact they'll both split ya dome scars are souvenirs, niggas always take 'em home.
[Chorus] You got blown over the jack? (that ain't gangsta) Your Man ran when you got clapped? (that ain't gangsta) rockin' a vest with no gat? (that ain't gangsta) you only a thug when you rap? (that ain't gangsta) niggas jooked you for your track? (that ain't gangsta) you ran to other thugs to get it back? (that ain't gangsta) niggas ran off with your packs? (that ain't gangsta) If you ain't bustin' ya gat (that ain't gangsta)
[Verse 2] You'd call me an Animal if you seen me livin' on lock I stay in a box cats be shook when I'm visitin' pop-ulation when I walk by, niggas like "Fifty don't play Son" "yeah, somethin' really wrong with that nigga..." max out, I'm goin' straight for the glock bust a u-turn, I'm goin' straight to the block the things that'll happen if niggas say I can't eat down goes the window....out goes the heat I'll make the whole block look like a fuckin' trackmeet some get it in the leg, some get it in the back some get it in the foot, bleed all over their airmax nigga pump my packs or pay poor tax it's extortion, it happens in the hood often claim more lives than choices, free abortions Rich Nice says I got a problem with the dice 'cause I put the title to the Benz on the line twice I rock shit 'cause I stay on that block shit that 9mm Ruger to your knot shit see the difference is I'm real and you not, kid I still stash crack money in my sock, shit ya'll niggas wanna pop shit? I pop clips leave with your blood on my mink in the drop Six Guiliani and Pataki can't stop this since '86 my whole clique pop Criss.
[Chorus]-
5-5-1 BLLLAAAP BLLLAAAP!! 1-3-4 BLLLAAAP BLLLAAAP!! What the fuck you know about that?
Compositores: Alvin Germaine West (West Al Hollywood), Curtis James Jackson (50 Cent), Richard Jackson (Ishmael) ECAD: Obra #1637946