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      What Up Gangsta

      What Up Gangsta

      50 Cent

      Album: Get Rich or Die Tryin'

      Escuchar lo mejor de la musica de 50 Cent

      50 Cent - What Up Gangsta Música y Letra

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      G-Unit
      We in here
      We can get the drama popping
      We don't care
      It's going down
      'Cause I'm around
      50 cent, you know how I gets down
      
      What up, blood?
      What up, 'cuz?
      What up, blood?
      What up, gangstaaa?
      
      What up, blood?
      What up, 'cuz?
      What up, blood?
      What up, gangstaaa?
      
      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 get 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 them they know me
      I grew up around some niggas that's not my homies
      Hundred G's I stash it, the mack I blast it
      
      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, Breitling Baguette Bezel
      Benz pedal to the metal, hotter than a tea kettle, blood
      
      What up, blood?
      What up, 'cuz?
      What up, blood?
      What up, gangstaaa?
      
      What up, blood?
      What up, 'cuz?
      What up, blood?
      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 Patti 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 fuck us, in the hood they love us
      Stomp a bone out your ass with some brand new chuckas
      
      What up, blood?
      What up, 'cuz?
      What up, blood?
      What up, gangstaaa?
      
      What up, blood?
      What up, 'cuz?
      What up, blood?
      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
      
      We don't play that
      We don't play that
      We don't play that
      G-Unit
      We don't play around
      
      We don't play that
      We don't play that
      We don't play that
      G-Unit
      We don't play around
      
      We don't play that
      We don't play that
      We don't play that
      G-Unit
      We don't play around

      50 Cent - What Up Gangsta Música y Letra

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