50 Cent - That Ain't Gangsta lyrics

How you gonna take this? like
A man or a bitch?
You gon' get it on nigga or you gon' snitch?
I represent niggas in the hood gettin' rich
Man, I stack chips and I unload clips
After 3 summers in the jail
I thought life was hard
Some niggas started fightin'
Some niggas found God
You know me, started sellin' leak in the yard
Yo, I ran into niggas who
Used to have Hummers
Big as hell in the joint wearin' '86 numbers
Damm dog, you been in here that long?
You could think that
But say that and yo' ass is dead wrong
A convo is only three words, "yo what up"
You ain't gotta work out to
Leave this bitch cut up
Let a nigga find out you
On some goin' home shit
And you tryin' to bounce
Without payin' a loan, shit
Some niggas beat cases on the
Strength of they cream
After witnesses disappear on the
Strength of they team
I'm hard as hell to get along
Wit' so it never fails
A nigga I got beef with end
Up in the same jail
He had a L rolled in bible
Paper - blowin' the lah
I sent him a little kite just
To be blowin' his high
And when I shot you in New York
Why would I box you now?
If I catch you going to sick
Call I'm'a ox you down
Niggas you think is real really
Can't hold they own i'll have 'em on some ET
Shit tryin' to phone home
In here a gemstar is like a nine milli chrome
It's similar
In fact they'll both split ya dome
Scars are souvenirs
Niggas always take 'em home

You got blown over the jack?
(that ain't gangsta)
Your man ran when you got clapped?
(that ain't gangsta)
Rockin' a vest with no gat?
(that ain't gangsta)
You only a thug when you rap?
(that ain't gangsta)
Niggas juxed you for your track?
(that ain't gangsta)
You ran to other thugs to get it back?
(that ain't gangsta)
Niggas ran off with your packs?
(that ain't gangsta)
If you ain't bustin' ya gat
(that ain't gangsta)

You'd call me Animal if you
Seen me livin' on lock
I stay in a box so much
It seems like I'm visitin' pop-ulation
When I walk by
Niggas like "Fifty don't play son"
"yeah, somethin' really wrong
With that nigga"
Max out, I'm goin' straight for the Glock
Bust a u turn
I'm goin' straight to the block
The things that'll happen if niggas
Say I can't eat
Down goes the windowout goes the heat
I'll make the whole block look
Like a fuckin' track meet
Some get it in the leg
Some get it in the back
Some get it in the foot
Bleed all over their Air Max
Nigga pump my packs or pay poor tax
It's extortion, it happens in the hood often
Claim more lives than choices, free abortions
Rich Nice says I got a problem with the dice
Cause I put the title to the
Benz on the line twice
I rock shit cause I stay on that block shit
That 9mm Ruger to your knot shit
See the difference is I'm real and you not
Kid
I still stash crack money in my sock, shit
Ya'll niggas wanna pop shit? I pop clips
Leave with your blood on my
Mink in the drop six
Guiliani and Pataki can't stop this
Since '86 my whole clique pop Criss


5-5-1 brrraaat brrraaat
1-3-4 brrraaat brrraaat
What the fuck you know about that?