50 Cent - I Don't Need 'Em - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

I Don't Need 'Em

50 Cent

The Massacre

30

Rap

Tekst piosenki
[50 Cent] Yeah, it is what it is man Uh-huh Sirens flashin' you know the routine, the crime scene taped off It started out a robbery, they blew half his face off They seen him shinin', cross full of diamonds he bought grindin' His first slip off the ladder of success he was climbin' The D's came through, askin' niggas if they know what happened Somehow my name end up in anything that involves clappin' Detectives at my mama crib, they say they wanna question me They put me in a lineup last time and they arrested me When it come to cookin coke, they know I got the recipe I turn a quarter to a half, that's why they mess with me I'm the neighborhood pusher, I move packs to make stacks A little weed, a little X, a little H, little crack Figure, I'll push it to the limit, take the shit to the max Navy blue vest on, navy blue Yankee hat Calm, in my palm's fully loaded firearm First to let off last to run, every time it's on [Hook: 50 Cent] I tell niggas to suck my dick, get the fuck out my face Cause I don't need 'em Cause they're, never around, when I'm down Shot and I'm bleedin' (What? Nigga is there.. is there a motherfuckin problem nigga?) (Oh, yeah that's what I, I thought so.. pussy!) [50 Cent] Niggas be talkin 'bout me, they always callin' me crazy Fuck them O.G. niggas, they stuck in the 80's Sayin they gon' do me somethin', now you know that's a lie Nigga you look at me wrong I let the hammer fly I'm rich, I still wake up, with crime on my mind Queens nigga put it down like Pappy Mason in his prime When I say move, nigga move, or get caught in the crossfire I prevents runnin', cut my fuckin' hand on the barbed wire This shit's crazy, it's just a different day it's the same shit Hollow-tip partin' yo' head, leave your whole fuckin' brain split They sick, they see me in that Aston Martin What's the matter? They can't get that hooptie started Thought they was grindin', well God damn, where that money at? Thought you was puffed up, cause you was lettin' paper stack You ain't a hustler, matter fact, you's a buster I don't trust ya, I should send niggas to touch ya [Hook] (What? Who say they gon' do somethin' to me?) (Must be out your rabbit-ass mind, fuck around kill one of these niggas)
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