“You Ain’t No Gangsta”
Got enough heart to sell weed but you scared of dope
I wouldn’t snitch on my peoples if the feds bribed me
Yo ass would hit more notes than Ron Isley
I wouldn’t rhyme about Rolleys if I had no watch
Wouldn’t write about crack if I ain’t had no spot
You talk six coupe’s, shit you only pushing a trey
Got bitches shutting you down in the C.L.K.
For cats like you, crime don’t pay
You just linger in the hood, then niggas blow you away
You the type to get paper when I’m locked up, get yo jewels rocked up
Then have to tuck em in when I pop up
Niggas in the hood saying “50’s Grimy”
‘Cause they hit me with consignment and now they can’t find me
If you see it how I see it, my watch is yo whip
And I can cop another one after each assist
You ain’t no gangsta
You’se a busta, a customer, a sucker
You fake fraudulent motherfucker
You ain’t a gangsta
I should cut ya, cock back and bust ya or stomp you out
‘Cause we don’t trust ya
You owe a nigga? You don’t wanna pay him?
Kill him, that’s what they said Ta Ta did to Peewee
Y’all ain’t got to believe me
When I’m done with this rhyme if there’s time I’ll hit a flick
With Mariella, this connect bitch, Peruvian chick
She ain’t hot but every time I fuck, the coke price drops
When it’s time to get it on (what)
I pull over the thong (uh huh)
Fuck ’til I nut then get up, I’m gone (yeah)
Usually hit it watching tele way out in L.A.
I like it when she say “Papi I feel it in my belly”
Call up all my niggas in New York on the celly
First thing I’m saying is “Nigga what da deally”
Pack a trey pound up under my Pelle Pelle
Y’all niggas want war, clap clap, oh really?
I watch niggas sling packs in front of the Deli
Got 20 inch chrome sitting on my Pirellis
Lorenzo on the Benzo, nigga you feel me?
You ain’t no gangsta
You’se a busta, a customer, a sucker
You fake fraudulent motherfucker
You ain’t a gangsta
I should cut ya, cock back and bust ya or stomp you out
‘Cause we don’t trust ya
Fix the cell, blast the room devil spray, turning proof
Ho whip, bullet proof, you ain’t fuckin’ with me, duke
Bricks from Filipe, 19 five, what we pay
Cop on a weekend, hard to catch em on a weekday
Niggas backed up, slugs to the gut, that’ll bet him up
Getting fed thru his arm in a hospital will slim him up
Get it thru yo head, 50 Cent don’t care
I cock triggers light the blockup, iller than times square
Real shit, you spit it ’cause you seen it
I spit it ’cause I did it and I mean it
Man, I don’t like none of y’all
Fuck around I’ll run in y’all pop one in y’all
Had the whole hood talking bout what I done to y’all
Listen I don’t give a fuck if you blood or cause
I got love for thugs niggas firing slugs
Stage rapping ass niggas ain’t sold no drugs
Gotta show me some love ’cause my shit is unplugged
You ain’t no gangsta
You’se a busta, a customer, a sucker
You fake fraudulent motherfucker
You ain’t a gangsta
I should cut ya, cock back and bust ya or stomp you out
‘Cause we don’t trust ya
About 50 Cent Lyrics
Artist: 50 Cent
Related Songs: Gun Runners Lyrics
Album: Power of the Dollar
Release date: July 4, 2000
Label: Columbia Records
Studio: Bearsville Studios, Bearsville, New York
Genres: Hip hop music, Gangsta rap, East Coast hip hop, Underground hip hop, Hardcore hip hop