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50 cent – these niggas aint hood lyrics

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[intro: 50 cent’s son marquise]
yo daddy, these n-gga’s ain’t hood, drop that sh-t

[verse 1: 50 cent]
so what i grew up with them n-ggas, i ain’t stuck with them n-ggas
we from the same hood but i don’t f-ck with them n-ggas
sh-t pop off, i touch one of them n-ggas
cut one of them n-ggas, buck one of them n-ggas
beg for mercy, number four, i’m so hood
first lp, ten-million sold, i’m so good
i thought n-ggas would love to see me shine
but it’s making them sick to see me getting mine
got that benz, got that bentley, and that new bugatti
got that range, aston martin, and that new ferrari
if it’s making you sick to see me blow i’m sorry
dude we used to be cool, but i ain’t stuck with you n-gga
i grew up with you n-gga, but i don’t f-ck with you n-gga
got shot in the back then turned around and got shot in the eye
you ain’t gonna shoot back lay down and die
there’s a message in my music, can you hear it kai?
your man’s never gonna blow and you’re the reason why
it’s disease infested when i spit it any n-gga can get it
f-ck the fronting and the rhymes that -ss’ll get flat-lined
can’t we all just get along? we used to be friends
nah, f-ck that, man we used to pretend
these n-ggas is comedians, i thought i was type funny
five called telling n-ggas, “mutt need bail money”
on some real sh-t, would you bail a n-gga out son, that knew n-ggas was trying to k!ll you and wouldn’t let you hold a gun
think about it
hahaha

[verse 2: lloyd banks]
regardless of what you done heard or hearing
f-ck all the comparing i dare them to come anywhere near him
they want someone famous to pout with so i walk around with my gun like it came with the outfit
i don’t really like to toot my own h-rn but beep, cl!ck clack, blat, go to sleep
we all know since you was in the cl-ss with legos, you’d grow up to be as soft as mash potatoes
your man gonna make me throw this n-gga towards the window and put his -ss in the air like the jordan symbol
all my diamonds are colored, i fruity pebble’d the right hand, fifty-five grand on the bezel from ice man
they want to give your boy the 40 cal and nina so i stay on my toes like a ballerina
i’m starving n-gga, the only one that can cut me and get away with it is my barber, n-gga
cause i’ll revolve a n-gga, take a piece of your head
you’ll have more room in your hat than a harlem n-gga
and now most of these subliminal raps be coming from the same n-ggas backstage giving you daps
like, “yo banks you hot and everybody says it and i think it’d be real big if we could do a record”
but now i’m on some other sh-t
like i ain’t f-cking with none of you n-ggas on a record unless you my brother sh-t
i’m an intelligent man and my elegant band got more colors than elephant man
since h-ll is at-hand i mine as well expand hand over my can
tan all over the lamb, lamb all over the sand
the sun all over the beach, your eyes all over my b-tch
her eyes all on your moves incase one of them switch
if you don’t learn to relax and swallow steam, there’ll be more sh-lls in the gr-ss than halloween