Shot Down

[Intro: 50 Cent] Over and over I done told ya, boy I'm a G-Unit motherfucking soldier, boy And when you gon' get it in your brain? The gate's wide open and the dogs off the chain [Verse 1: 50 Cent] I be that youngin with that gun that’s tellin' ya stop frontin' I be that yougin on the run after I pop somethin' In the Bible I read death is of the tongue And if you talk about death enough death is gon' come Jay taught me how to flow, they shot him in the head Randy ass was there, now he runnin' scared Some say I'm gangsta, some say I'm crazy If you ask me I'll say I'm what the hood made me Now I can stunt 'til my ass dead broke like JD Or put a hundred grand on every nigga head that play me See I'm cool with them Haitian mob niggas They say ''Sak pase Nap boule'' and rob niggas The media be tryin' to make a nigga look bad, what's with that? See my flick next to Preme, Papi and Cat And Montana, I kill 'em with the grammar I enhanced in the slammer after bangin them hammers X, what up? (Aight) [Hook: 50 Cent] You don't live that, you shouldn't say that Cause what come out your mouth'll get you shot down Throwin' your money around and we don't play that Getting in our line'll get you shot down We know where you hang, we know where you stay at That bullshit you on'll get you shot down Here's a few cliques that you shouldn't play with G-Unit, Ruff Ryders'll get you shot down [Verse 2: DMX] Fuck y'all niggas talkin' 'bout, think you playin' with? Double R, G-Unit, the same old shit Put the faggots in the ring, watch 'em all quit All y'all niggas is pussy, suck my dick Ain't nothin' but a handful of man still standin' I remember 50 in a cypher when Onyx was "Slammin" Now we meet again, it's all good, my nigga Back to the street again, it's all hood, my nigga Knock on wood, my nigga, we both walk the dog We ain't get to where we at by luck, shit was hard But once we got through the trials it's all smiles 'Til a big type nigga all of a sudden get wild Now why you gotsta go and take me back to where I came from? I'mma make you remember where you know my name from 45th Street, and blaow-blaow Ave I done ran through your crew and only let off half, nigga [Hook] [Verse 3: Styles P] If your head ain't off of your shoulders You ain't get shot, you got nicked nigga (just nicked) Cause if my chrome hit a piece of your bone It's gon' do more than chip, nigga (a lot more than that) Yeah, what the fuck is the problem? The Porsche is red, the buckets is army 30 shot handguns, the gutter is starvin Niggas like me might rush your apartment Bloodstains'll fuck up your carpet, brain on the window I smell murder every time that the wind blow Tie him to the chair and then knock out his chinbone I don’t want the throne or the crown, I ain’t sell enough You can have the jail or the ground, you ain't in hell enough I'm the one that flood the gutters Better tap your man and let him know P'll love to cut his And niggas is gettin shot down, two guns up Double R, S.P., holdin' D Block down [Hook]