50 Cent - Gotta Make It to Heaven lyrics
50 Cent [Curtis James Jackson III]
[50 Cent - Gotta Make It to Heaven lyrics]
For going through Hell
I gotta make it to Heaven
I gotta make it to Heaven
I gotta make it to Heaven
For going through Hell
I gotta make it to Heaven
I hope I make it to Heaven
Some say I'm paranoid
I say I'm careful how I choose my friends
I been to ICU once, I ain't going again
First Z got murked then Roy got murked
And homie still in the hood
Why he ain't getting hurt?
I smell something fishy, man
It might be a rat
Damn, niggas switching sides on
Niggas just like that
You know me, I stay with a bitch on her knees
And give guns away in the
Hood like it's government cheese
Spray off Suzuki's, eleven hundred cc's
No plate on the back
Straight squeezing the MAC
In the hood they identify niggas by they cars
So I switch up whips to stay off the radar
I ain't gotta be around to make shit hot
I'll send Yayo to dump 30 shots on your block
You should spray that TEC, nigga
If I say get it done
I'll make you wet niggas if you 'round me son
I gotta make it to Heaven
For going through Hell
I gotta make it to Heaven
I gotta make it to Heaven
I gotta make it to Heaven
For going through Hell
I gotta make it to Heaven
I hope I make it to Heaven
When I come through the hood
I don't stop to rap to niggas
Get close enough to smack ya
Then clap ya nigga
Pop tried to front so I waved
The chrome on his ass
Point blank range I spazzed
Pulled a bone on his ass
Two weeks later niggas came through with
MACs to lay me down they sprayed
I played dead and got the fuck off the ground
Out the blue I get a
Phone call: "Fifty what up?"
"They sent a bitch at me
I sent the bitch back cut up"
I don't play that pussy shit
I done told you, boy
Front on me you gon' meet one of my soldiers
Boy cousin Twin shot up his mamma crib
Now he in jail
Tripping off flicks of Blu Cantrell, pussy
And black tail pop mama moved
But she don't talk to him no mo'
The shells from Twin's fo'-fo' blew
The hinge off her door
Without that check every month how she
Going to pay for the crib?
Man, social service finna come
And take them kids
I gotta make it to Heaven
For going through Hell
I gotta make it to Heaven
I gotta make it to Heaven
I gotta make it to Heaven
For going through Hell
I gotta make it to Heaven
I hope I make it to Heaven
Lord, grant me the serenity to accept
The things I cannot change
The courage to change the things I can
And the wisdom to know the difference
In AA they make you say that
That's the prayer they burn in your
Head when you in CASAT
Man, I might talk to you while
We up in them pens
But when we come home that don't
Mean we gon' fucking be friends
The shells pass your head close
Enough to hear 'em whistle
Thank God they missed you and
Go grab your pistol
In the hood niggas running
'round acting crazy
Buying little Air Jordans for maybe babies
See it might be his and it might be yours
Because them broads in the projects
Is straight up whores
Man, it don't take much for you
To get in them drawers
You can have them on they
Back or on all fours
You ain't got to tell me
You feeling this shit
Because I hear what I'm saying
I know I'm killing this shit
I gotta make it to Heaven
For going through Hell
I gotta make it to Heaven
I gotta make it to Heaven
I gotta make it to Heaven
For going through Hell
I gotta make it to Heaven
I hope I make it to Heaven
I gotta make it to Heaven
For going through Hell
I gotta make it to Heaven
I gotta make it to Heaven
I gotta make it to Heaven
For going through Hell
I gotta make it to Heaven
I hope I make it to Heaven