.50 Lyrics – Deala
Singer: Deala
Title: .50
It’s a hard .50
There is too much difference between dat n rifle
Riches will have to leave their muthaf#ckin’ hot-rod
‘Cause men started to menace and they want to roll
Neva shoot the eight ball
When yo’ parents buy a new phat sh#t for you, don’t stand tall
I would take a bad role
You can’t take down all muthaf#ckas with the Deagle from tha bad zone
Stay away or get back to Africa n become a King Kong
If you got some claims, play with me some ping pong
If you don’t do that, dat means you are so wrong
Nobody gives a mad f#ck ’bout yo’ ho’
Deagle won’t hеlp you if there’s a f#ckin’ po-po chasin’ you down on the car which is so low
I would hirе yo’ #ss like a stupid muthaf#cka to start to mow
Don’t get in a squabble with me if you don’t prefer to be in dat row
‘Cuz tha f#ckin’ .50 won’t let you go
You can call it .50
Dat gun duzn’t like muthaf#ckas who are nifty
Stay in yo’ dirty city
I don’t give a God damn ’bout yo’ f#ckin’ kitty
I’m a real man n I neva say ‘it’s pity’
Let’s get back – to the verses of old school rap
Don’t mess with us, if you don’t wanna hear tha damn clack
Nowadays it’s really hard to put yourself on the map
The purpose of mine is wreck this muthaf#ckin’ track
You are nobody if you got some lack
Boss can easily sack
If you gonna talk back
What’s after that?
Plan to play the f#ckin’ roulette?
Or get busted a cap with a .50 strap?
You have to hit the deck
If real man is comin’ to mess yo’ lack
Don’t act after that like a total dickhead
Or muthaf#ckin’ small rat
They will own you like a pet
You can avoid all this sh#t if you aren’t in the red
Yo’ #ss has to go bed
Tomorrow you’ll have to take the muthaf#ckin’ backpack
And go school to wrack
But what wrack?
Yo’ homies n b#tches who are wack
If you want to wrestle, firstly check yo’ damn neck
Goin’ out with dat .50 strap
To destroy all this modern rap
.50 is insane
I gotta make this real phat sh#t which wrack even sane
Don’t step on the bus lane
But if you f#ck the law, I gonna call dat mayne
What’s dat? It’s da gun harassin’ yo’ #ss under muthaf#ckin’ rain, ya know what I’m sayin’
It’ll be nuthin’ but a pain
Remember what I said ’bout you n dat f#ckin’ train
I gonna motivate yo’ ass, it won’t gain – anythin’ without pain
Actin’ everytime properly but modern sh#t is off the chain
If you bought the car you must maintain
But yo’ #ss duzn’t give a f#ck ’bout that, so you just stain
To get fulled stack you gobble the dick fain
Hopefully, you know that sugar is made from the cane
If you don’t know, the real hard men can visit yo’ #ss like Dwayne
So, I am not gonna talk ’bout people who reign
Or bustas who are in the game
Only I say they are too lame
.50 duzn’t like stupid muthaf#ckas, so slack off with yo’ dame
.50 is da gun which can smoke out all dickheads with the facile way
So, stop spittin’ some lame verses n wordz, if you want to not deal with dat n stay alive
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Lyrics Deala – .50
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