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Artist: 50 Cent
Album:  Animal Ambition
Song:   The Funeral
Typed by: 

[Intro: slowed down]
Boy you forgot my style

[50 Cent]
Flowers, funeral service, a kid's in the coffin
It sounds so familiar, don't it happen so often?
The shoot-out shit happens, the sister read the eulogy
Couldn't help but think, "Nigga better you than me"
Trey-eight ain't got no safety, that bullet got no name on it
But it's hard to miss when that thang got a beam on it
First shot pop off, e'rybody poppin
Shot the glass at the store front, we forgot God was watchin
Run run, hit the gate, D's yellin "Drop it"
Niggaz gettin jammed up; better that than a jammed-up
His momma said a few words to her, "He was innocent"
She might've heard he did some shit but never saw no benefits
So in her eyes, he's mommy's lil' baby
But he was outside, talkin to niggaz crazy
In a room full of people came to pay their respect
I just came to get a close look at a nigga to check
That nigga dead as a doorknob, stiff as a nail
And my man, tomorrow he gon' get out of jail
R.O.R., trust me nigga I know the law
Released on your Own Recognizance - that bullshit I'm on it
That's his first taste - I mean his first case
Got knocked with the strap - but not the one that clapped
This nigga here we still got that, yeah
The first law in my hood is show no fear
Him and love was closer than we thought, that nigga in here cryin
Oh shit, in the store he probably passed him the iron
These some grimy ass niggaz, full-breed vultures
Tryin to come up, still eatin around roaches
Cookie Crisp, Cap'n Crunch, breakfast of the champions
Lucky Charms, stay armed, and niggaz won't clap you then
We watch the side bitch talk like she his main bitch
His wifey just sat there, preachers wasn't sayin shit
Right jab, left hook, hand full of weave
This type shit a nigga got to see to believe
These bitches actin up in here, police they don't fuckin care
Homicide snoop around to them, we all with the shit
Cousin back from college sayin he gon' get who did this shit
He a ball player nigga, nigga better play ball
You play with the wrong niggaz we gon' get to lettin off
I done seen enough, feel like it's time for me to split
Hit the parkin lot and chill where the weed is lit
Twist the cap, pour out a little liquor
All the theatrics, you know, like that was my nigga
We all can't win, some of us gotta lose
Envision a lil' dog barkin at a pack of wolves
Cause that's what happened; yeah yeah, that's what happened
He just went on and on 'til niggaz started attackin
Actin like he was the only motherfucker packin

Fifty bars of pleasure, fifty bars of pain
When I'm dead and I'm gone niggaz will remember the name
It's 50... yeah, yeah
Fifty bars of pleasure, fifty bars of pain
When I'm dead and I'm gone niggaz will remember the name
It's 50... yeah, yeah, haha