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50 Cent – Lifes On The Line Lyrics

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Read Time:3 Minute, 24 Second

Nobody likes me
Nobody likes me but thats okay
Cause I dont like yall anyway
And I dont like yall anyway
Fuck all yall!

I got my watch talk for me, my whip talk for me
My gat talk for me, blat! Whattup homie?
For bitches who dont know me, they wanna blow me
Cause the shit I floss with sayin a lot for me

I came into rap humble, I dont give a fuck now
Ill serve anybody like niggaz who hustle uptown
Coke price go up, capsules come down
The Ds run in my crib, Im nowhere to be found

Niggaz who hustle for me, they dont even stash tracks
They keep it on em, right there in they ass crack
When I dont like a nigga, I dont pretend to
Ill have the paramedics wrap your fuckin head like a Hindu

Look, I aint goin nowhere, so get used to me
OGs look at me and see Im what they used to be
Im that nigga that sold coke, the nigga that sold dope
The nigga that shot Dice when he broke to sold soap

The thug, that pop shit, the thug that pop clips
The thug that went from three and a half to a whole bricks
Nigga aint in his right mind, goin against me
My pictures painted through words that make a blind man see

Scream murder!
I dont believe you!
Murder!
Fuck around and leave you!
Murder!
I dont believe you!
Murder, murder!
Your lifes on the line!

Yall niggaz dont want no parts of me
Im tryna figure out how yall started me
If you gonna make me catch you on the late night
Pop shots with the fifth and slide off with the six

Im not a marksmen while sparkin, so I spray random
Not a pretty nigga but my moms think Im handsome
I hate to hear, He say, She say shit
Unless, he say, she said, She on my dick

Its no coincidence, niggaz who fuck with me get shot up
I do a Cali style drive by and tear ya block up
You soft duke, you puttin up a crazy front
I stay with the Mac, cause niggaz tried to blaze me once

In the hood they like, Damn, 50 really spitted on em
You heard that shit?, Yeah, 50 really shitted on em
Beef, you dont want none, so dont start none
You just a small player in this game, play a part son

Scream murder!
I dont believe you!
Murder!
Fuck around and leave you!
Murder!
I dont believe you!
Murder, murder!
Your lifes on the line!

These cats always escape reality when they rhyme
Thats why they write about bricks and only dealt with dimes
Leave it to them, and they say they got a fast car
Nascar, truck with a crash bar, and TVs in the dash, pa

See em in the five with stock rims, I just laugh, pa
I catch stunts when I aint tryin
I aint lyin, I sit Dom P till I spit up
Keep my wrist lit up

Get outta line, I get you hit up
Now if you say my name in your rhyme
You better watch what you say

You get carried away, you can get shot and carried away
Now heres a list of MCs that can kill you in eight bars
50, umm Jay-Z and Nas
Ima say this shit now and never again

We aint buddies, we aint partners and we damn sure aint friends
The games you playin, you get killed like that
Actin like you all hard, you aint built like that
See me when you see me nigga, WHAT?

Scream murder!
I dont believe you!
Murder!
Fuck around and leave you!
Murder!
I dont believe you!
Murder, murder!
Your lifes on the line!

Yall niggaz dont want no parts of me
Im tryna figure out how yall started me
You gon make me catch her on the late night
Pop shots with the fifth and slide off with the six

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