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Video Who Shot Ya Freestyle » 50 Cent Lyrics

50 Cent - Who Shot Ya Freestyle Lyrics


[Intro]
Yo, yo
Uh huh, yeah, uh, uh
Uh huh, what, what, yo

[Verse 1]
I breathe comfortable when I use the slow flow
Fuckin' your ho on the floor of my condo
Go rough fo sho when I hear [?]
Better run too nigga, police behind yo
Mix a lil hash, sheesh in with the hydro
You ain't got to tell me I'm hot, nigga I know
If it's beef I'ma clap me a nigga and get low
I ain't with doin' the hit if it ain't for no real dough
Give me the money first, I be back with the blow
Shit ain't pumpin' out here man it's movin' mad slow
Nigga you know you owe, you better give me my dough
Or get hit with six shells from the big fo fo
Look I'm destined to be successful, son I bless you
Catch you on a late night wit a trey-a special
Yo Rough, roll the weed while I tell 'em what I need
I need cream by the stacks, shells for the Mac
Rims for the Ac' and a bitch to blow her back
I need the coke to come back, mad time on a jack
I got the Fendi sweaters, all I need is the hats
I need the police to chill, stay the fuck off my back
See a nigga in a Benz, swear he peddlin' crack
I need a stash box dog, so I could stash the gat
I need a stadium light to leave 'em blind as a bat
Flippin' from under my plate when I'm runnin' from Jake
I make no mistakes, son I need extra papes
My man up North, he need the new Kid Capri tape
I'm physically fit, nah for real, son I'm in shape
I need a bad Spanish bitch to take me out on a date
One time for your motherfuckin' mind
[Interlude]
One time, uh, yo, yo
Fuck that son, I'ma get loose on this shit one time man
Fuck this shit, yo

[Verse 2]
Nigga if you ain't worth a mill, you ain't far from broke
Got enough heart to sell weed but you scared of dope
I wouldn't snitch on a nigga if the feds bribe me
Yo ass ah hit more notes than Ron Isley
After 3 summers in the jail I thought life was hard
Some niggas start fightin', some niggas found God
You know me, I start sellin' leak in the yard
Yo, I ran into niggas who used to have Hummers
Big as hell in the joint wearin' '86 numbers
Damn 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 tryna bounce wit out payin' a loan shit
I watch niggas beat cases on the strength of they cream
After witnesses disappear on the strength of they team

[Interlude]
Yo, yo, yo ,yo, yo
Feel me on this shit
Yo, yo
[Verse 3]
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 lye
I sent him a lil kite just to be blowin' his high
And when I shot you in New York, why would I box you now?
I catch you goin' to sick call I'ma ox you down
One reason I

[Outro]
Yo, yo
Ayo
Fuck that Sha, let that shit play, yo son
Let that shit play son, fuck that
Nigga I'ma ringer nigga
I'ma professional muh'

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