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What Up Gangsta? Lyrics - Get Rich Or Die Trying - 50 Cent

G-Unit (What) 

We in here (What) 

 

We can get the drama popping 

We don't care (What, what, what) 

It's going down (What) 

'Cause I'm around (What) 

 

50 Cent, you know how I gets down (Down) 

 

What up, Blood? (What) 

What up, Cuz? (What) 

What up, Blood? (What) 

What up, Gangstaaa? 

What up, Blood? (What) 

What up, Cuz? (What) 

What up, Blood? (What) 

What up, Gangstaaa? 

 

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They say I walk around like got an "S" on my chest 

Naw, that's a semi-auto, and a vest on my chest 

I try not to say nothing, the DA might want to play in court 

 

But I'll hunt or duck a nigga down like it's sport 

Front on me, I'll cut ya, gun-butt ya or bump ya 

You getting money? I can't none with ya then fuck ya 

I'm not the type to get knocked for D.W.I. 

I'm the type that'll kill your connect when the coke price rise 

Gangstas, they bump my shit then they know me 

I grew up around some niggas that's not my homies 

Hundred G's I stash it (what), the mack I blast it (yeah) 

D's come we dump the diesel and battery acid 

This flow's been mastered, the ice I flash it 

Chokes me, I'll have your mama picking out your casket, bastard 

I'm on the next level, bright ring bigot bezzle 

Benz pedal to the metal, hotter than a tea kettle, blood (what) 

 

Photos 

 

What up, Blood? (What) 

What up, Cuz? (What) 

What up, Blood? (What) 

What up, Gangstaaa? 

What up, Blood? (What) 

What up, Cuz? (What) 

What up, Blood? (What) 

What up, Gangstaaa? 

 

We don't play that 

We don't play that 

We don't play that (G-Unit) 

 

We don't play around 

I sit back, twist the best bud, burn and wonder 

When gangstas bump my shit, can they hear my hunger? 

When the 5th kick, duck quick, it sounds like thunder 

 

In December I'll make your block feel like summer 

The rap critics say I can rhyme, the fiends say my dope is a nine 

Every chick I fuck with is a dime 

I'm like Patty LaBelle, homie, I'm on my own 

Where I lay my hat is my home, I'm a rolling stone 

Cross my path I'll crush ya, thinking I won't touch ya 

I'll have your ass using a wheelchair, cane, or crutches 

Industry hoe fuckers, in the hood they love us 

Stomp a bone out your ass with some brand new chuckas 

Writer:

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