Back to the previous page

Artist: 500 f/ Husalah, The Jacka, Big T, Lil' Tone
Album:  Treal-Listic
Song:   50 Bullets
Typed by:*

* send corrections to the typist

-=Husalah talking=-
Yeah man
You know these niggaz man
They don't understand man
Niggaz man
Niggaz rock wit shit wit clips that hold more than 50 man
You need to just call in 50 man
I'll slap you in yo face
Make yo eye purple as this rope

Yeah Husalah
Husalah say a dope rhyme
Load yo clip wit 16 to this four times
Let these niggaz know you the dopest
Yeah I'm focused wit being focused ain't shit if you ain't a mobsta
I'm a mobsta
Block, shock, and shrug nigga

I love dealers that slap bitches in the mouth
Yeah it sound foul
Dip and dummy down “set-cla” stupid thou
Truce niggaz on my feet
I'm a wild child

-=Big T talking=-
Damn 500
You at it again huh there boy
I see you out there doing yo thug thizzle mayne
First it was just another high speed
Now you on your lil' own lil' hype
Now you got The Jacka and the Husalah on this mother fucker
Wit Lil' Tone, Young too, [?] on this mother fucker mayne
It's gotta go platinum
So turn me up cuz

[Big T]
Cuz I'm from the Mac Block
To the Olds Block
To the Half Block
Shit don't stop
Until I'm in the Maro
Comin' down yo block wit dumb knock
But it still won't stop
Cuz it's on the fuckin' crackin'
When I ride wit 500 you know it's ‘bout to be a jackin'

[The Jacka]
This ain't P. Diddy makin' a band
It's a G in the P city makin' a grand
Every hour, hardly shower
Cuz I'm tryin' to be flippin' flour
Fuck the Rob Report

I read the Mob Report
Yeah scrapin' up the block
Coke white transport
Never fight me
I'm a poor sport
Niggaz better like me
50 deep every nigga hyphy
You don't even like me
I don't give a shit
I'll just be wit yo bitch
You got her feelin' rich
You lose your grip every time you take a sniff nigga

Ugh, 500 Double-O
Have you poppin' off your car door
Skatin' through the town
Big corners I be bendin'
It rides like a vet but it's a V-6 engine
Pay them hoes no attention
Chrome tip glistenin'
Stay out the way or you might die flinchin'
Three dot eight but it runs like a point
Blowin' trees out my lungs
Sweet Swisher's no joints
When I pull up them hoes look A-1 shocks
Two 12's in the back
Slidin' hard through the block
Don't touch me
These hoes wanna fuck me
Yeah it's a Jacob
I know it's not a rollie
Why she got to clownin'?
Tryin' to floss hard

Bitch don't you know I'm a mother fuckin' star
Put the money on the hood
And your Burberry coat
Niggaz start to run up
Niggaz gettin' chose
50 in my clip
Homie what about yours?
Well back yo ass up
Before you catch a heat soar

[Lil' Tone]
Stand on the block
Post all night
It's hot so nigga gon' post all night
Don't got time to waste
So I'm on a paper chase
Game I'm lacin' as I'm spitin' the flow
Getting' the doe, pimpin' the ho
You know how we do
Come through so sick in a tight whip
Maybe your under-bucket
We don't give a fuck
If you like it or not
Your bitch still gon' jock
Cuz she see a young thug risin' to the top
Fuckin' wit my cutty Husalah
And the nigga The Jack
500 we back
They can't fuck wit that [hell naw cuz, yeah]

-=500 talking=-
Now see, see
I'm trynna explain
I'm trynna tell you [I'm trynna tell you]
Ugh, you niggaz
I'm trynna explain what I'm, what I'm, what I'm, what I'm trynna say

Like BLAH!
But sometimes it just, it don't get across
Oh yeah, oh yeah, believe that, yeah, yeah, fo' sho
I like this one
Oh yeah, believe that

50 in my clip homie what about yours
Three shots that'll clear your door

-=500 talking=-
And you bitches wanna get involved too
You goin' along wit it
That's how we ride out here