300 Shots Lyrics – 50 Cent
Singer: 50 Cent
Title: 300 Shots
Yeah….
Y’all n#gg#s spend too much time watchin’ flicks
Who you wan’ be? Tony Montana n shit?
Well you can start, right before his #ss get hit
But when I walk up you can see the shotgun spit
Ferrari roof go down, Lam doors go up
I got big boy toys, when you gon’ grow up?
n#gg# knick knack pattywack, give a dog a bone
I’m still down to sell crack out a fiends home
God bless the child with a flawless flow
Say gave a n#gg# the talent to push blow
Like a pimp watch a hoe, I watch the grams go
Watch the stash grow, straight cash flow
I’m a hundred time bigger than Preme in his prime
100 mill in my account and I’m still on the grind
When you ain’t in my clique, it’s hard to shine
I mean talent like this is so hard to find
G-Unit!
I don’t dream now that I’m livin, I’m out to get it
My truck an ak can hit it
I’m a rap tycoon, I was fly in thе whom
So I’m gettin #ss like a public bathroom
I went from Rikеrs Island, to shows at the garden
Automatic startin’ in the drop got your b#tch p#ss# fartin
My album about to drop in 7 days
But I still poke a rapper at the vma’s
Kilo’s in a gram, po’s be my fans
That’s why I’m overseas doin shows in Japan
I got Gats from the future, see-through guns
So when my bullets leave the chamber I can see you run
n#gg# I flip my advance before I ran through it
’cause that money turn haters into that barmen fluid
My dope be a 8, from a 1 to 10
Keepin in a cool place from Uncle Ben
Yeah, you know you messin’ with a n#gg# that do this for a livin’
Put two in the street while there’s two in the kitchen
Put guns in n#gg#s mouth like “Who is you dissin’?”
Be a year ‘fore they knew who you was missin’, n#gg#
You gave, I had a gun at the chain, or one at the brain
I have hoes back of the church, hummin’ ya name
Even then I feel it’s like cheat my men
Watch God leave the sky to come and greet my men
I pop n#gg#s in the chest they never breathe again
Do 20 in the fitness see the streets again
Just a man try wake up and can’t wake up
Back guards face straight up with pounds of make up
’cause everytime I run, scream, pop a 3-80
I hear a mother scream “Please not my baby”
Quick as I see issue, bullets’ll hit you, boy
Your nobody so no one’ll miss you
Pain start to kickin’ it’s too much to get through
Leave a n#gg# leakin’ like the Indian ritual
Who wanna run up on me to get known quick
I blackout then snatch your chrome clique
Leavin’ jail in ’91, made I’m homesick
Move powerful like a Farrakhan atonement
Raised in, caged in, let my ways spin
Face wrapped up like I’m Saudi Arabian
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Lyrics 50 Cent – 300 Shots
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