Video Exclusive 2003 Shit » 50 Cent Lyrics | Musica Hip Hop

50 Cent - Exclusive 2003 Shit Lyrics

[Intro: Big L & DJ Ron G]
Big L, Harlem's finest
Yeah, the nigga who hold it down for uptown
(My nigga Big L!)
Who gets down for the count
(Rest in peace, my nigga! Love you)
To drop something

[Verse 1: Big L & DJ Ron G]
I keep a stash full of cash, puffing grass with a dash of some hash
Jeans be saggin' off half of my ass
I keep it ghetto, still, I'm a fly fellow
I love the cuties, no matter if they dark-skin or high yellow
My iceberg sweaters and leathers are raw
I'm getting cheddar galore like never before
I can pull a dime quicker than Dillinger can pull a heist
I rock the blue face presidential for the ice (Woo!)
Me and my crew is sick like the flu
So what you gon' do, boo, when we come for you, huh?
It ain't no calling time out once I climb out the garbage can
Get two nines out, and blow your spine out

[Interlude: DJ Ron G]
Don't forget y'all, Ron G
You only gonna hear it right here, exclusive
Big, big shout-out to the whole 39th, 40th
You heard?
[Chorus: Nas, Freeway, 50 Cent]
How could you call yourself MC?
If you from the hood, I know you feel me
How could you call yourself MC?
I'm the underground king, and I ain't been crowned
How could you call yourself MC?
If you from the hood, I know you feel me
How could you call yourself MC?
I'm the underground king, and I ain't been crowned

[Verse 2: Big L]
Ayo, my whole entourage is large from here to Vegas
Imitators hate us 'cause we sport gators and flavors
Put snitches in boxes, coppers and federals watch us
They tried everything in this world to lock us but can't stop us
I'm known for rockin' tours, picture me moppin' floors
Only fuck with ki's and not the kind that be lockin' doors
What I recite be takin' hours to write
So if you bite, just tell your man what kind of flowers you like
I be that buck wild, foul criminal who make the women smile
It's time to drop something new, it's been a while
And L is that nigga you expect
To catch wreck on any cassette deck
I'm so ahead of my time, my parents haven't met yet

[Chorus: Nas, Freeway, 50 Cent]
How could you call yourself MC?
If you from the hood, I know you feel me
How could you call yourself MC?
I'm the underground king, and I ain't been crowned
How could you call yourself MC?
If you from the hood, I know you feel me
How could you call yourself MC?
I'm the underground king, and I ain't been crowned
[Outro: Big L & Ron G]
Word up, man
Nowadays these cats don't be representin' the microphone like they supposed to
Word up, so we gotta take it back
Only real niggas with skills should get deals, word up
One love to the whole Harlem clique
Herb McGruff, Mase Murda, C.O.C., Killa Cam, Bloodshed
You know how we do, Ron G, make it hot
Uh, uh, uh, uh