50 Cent - Death to My Enemies lyrics

50 Cent [Curtis James Jackson III]

[50 Cent - Death to My Enemies lyrics]

Dre, niggas think we bullshitting yeah, yeah

Nigga, try me, son
He best have the heat on him
Whip him outta his clothes
Get to mopping the street with him
Boy, I'll put your body in a bag
Front on me, I'm on ya ass
I bring money to my niggas that
Bring death to my enemies
I bring money to my niggas that
Bring death to my enemies

Nigga front on me
The goons and goblins come out
Bushmaster hundred shot, drums'll run out
They dumb out, you heard of me
They call me big homie
Me I make the register ring, I'm the cash cow
They make the hammers ring
They on ya ass now
Hair trigger, stare nigga, yeah
Niggas'll flip six shot semi assault
Let it off at your will
Here I is, where the money is
I still get biz if D's know about the beef
You gon' still get did
It be your tombstone and your
Fucking grave they dig
Have that ass in the precinct trying
To talk to the pigs i'm like Damien, nigga
When I start getting loose on you
Closest thing to Lucifer
You think you got a noose on you
I make it hard to breathe
I come with your hustle, air it out
Make it hard to eat
Have you lookin' both ways like
You crossing the street

Nigga, try me, son
He best have the heat on him
Whip him outta his clothes
Get to mopping the street with him
Boy, I'll put your body in a bag
Front on me, I'm on ya ass
I bring money to my niggas that
Bring death to my enemies
I bring money to my niggas that
Bring death to my enemies

Yeah, niggas send me the wrong message
We gon' fucking kill the messenger
Your whole clique
Hollow tips'll tear up the best of ya
This ain't the "Carter" nigga, this is Sparta
It's harder, I die and be a martyr
Respect me like your father
Let off a clip or let a case off
I have your pussy ass running
Like a race horse
Follow orders now, Yay' shoot his face off
You can have one, blast one, it's mad fun
See how when you listen to me
All of the cash gone
I was born with the tech, it's a birth defect
I was conceived in the bins
Ended up in a Benz
This is what happens when have
Not's turn into Sasquatch let the gat pop
Boogie down on the back blocks
It's horrific, nah, it's terrific
I got it if you sniff it
Go 'head nigga twist it
Get lifted, goddamn I'm gifted

Nigga, try me, son
He best have the heat on him
Whip him outta his clothes
Get to mopping the street with him
Boy, I'll put your body in a bag
Front on me, I'm on ya ass
I bring money to my niggas that
Bring death to my enemies
I bring money to my niggas that
Bring death to my enemies

Yeah, I tell 'em ride on 'em
Then they ride on 'em
Get the line on 'em and squeeze the 9 on 'em
Headshot, 40-Glock blow his mind on him
It's a hit, not a jux leave the shines on 'em
Now you can watch me, nigga
Like the police watch me i move proper
Go ahead catch a shell trying to stop me
That 430 Spider, carbon fibre
And my dog is like Al Qaeda, natural fighter
Rapid fire, you're sweet like apple cider
The Mack'll fire, mask like Michael Myers
It's off the wire when I get on my bullshit
No smiles, no laughs, you gets no pass
You can explain to my niggas
While they whoop yo' ass
My hands itch when the money comes
It's hard to explain it
Last time I itched like this
A truckload came in
Get money, get bread, that's what I do kid

Nigga, try me, son
He best have the heat on him
Whip him outta his clothes
Get to mopping the street with him
Boy, I'll put your body in a bag
Front on me, I'm on ya ass
I bring money to my niggas that
Bring death to my enemies
I bring money to my niggas that
Bring death to my enemies

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