Shot Down Songtext
von DMX feat. 50 Cent & Styles P.
Shot Down Songtext
Over and over I done told ya, boy
I′m a G-Unit motherfucking soldier, boy
And when you gon' get it in your brain?
The gate′s wide open and the dogs off the chain
I be that youngin with that gun that's tellin' ya stop frontin′
I be that youngin on the run after I pop somethin′
In the Bible I read death is of the tongue
And if you talk about death enough death is gon' come
Jay taught me how to flow, they shot him in the head
Randy ass was there, now he runnin′ scared
Some say I'm gangsta, some say I′m crazy
If you axe me I'll say I′m what the hood made me
Now I can stunt till my ass dead broke like JD
Or put a hundred grand on every nigga head that play me
See I'm cool with them Haitian mob niggas
They say "Sak pase Nap boule" and rob niggas
The media be tryin' to make a nigga look bad, what′s up with that?
See my flick next to Preme, Papi and Cat
And Montana, I kill ′em with the grammar
I enhanced in the slammer after bangin' them hammers
X, what up? (Aight)
You don′t live that, you shouldn't say that
′Cause what come out your mouth'll get you shot down
Throwin′ your money around and we don't play that
Getting in our line'll get you shot down
We know where you hang, we know where you stay at
That bullshit you on′ll get you shot down
Here′s a few cliques that you shouldn't play with
G-Unit, Ruff Ryders′ll get you shot down
Hey, yo, fuck y'all niggas talkin′ 'bout, think you playin′ with?
Double R, G-Unit, the same old shit
Put the faggots in the ring, watch 'em all quit
All y'all niggas is pussy, suck my dick
Ain′t nothin′ but a handful of man still standin'
I remember 50 in a cypher when Onyx was "Slammin"
Now we meet again, it′s all good, my nigga
Back to the street again, it's all hood, my nigga
Knock on wood, my nigga, we both walk the dog
We ain′t get to where we at by luck, shit was hard
But once we got through the trials it's all smiles
Till a big type nigga all of a sudden get wild
Now why you gotsta go and take me back to where I came from?
I′ma make you remember where you know my name from
45th Street, and blaow-blaow Ave
I done ran through your crew and only let off half, nigga
You don't live that, you shouldn't say that
′Cause what come out your mouth′ll get you shot down
Throwin' your money around and we don′t play that
Getting in our line'll get you shot down
We know where you hang, we know where you stay at
That bullshit you on′ll get you shot down
Here's a few cliques that you shouldn′t play with
G-Unit, Ruff Ryders'll get you shot down
If your head ain't off of your shoulders
You ain′t get shot, you got nicked nigga (Just nicked)
′Cause if my chrome hit a piece of your bone
It's gon′ do more than chip, nigga (A lot more than that)
Yeah, what the fuck is the problem?
The Porsche is red, the buckets is army
30 shot handguns, the gutter is starvin'
Niggas like me might rush your apartment
Bloodstains′ll fuck up your carpet, brain on the window
I smell murder every time that the wind blow
Tie him to the chair and then knock out his chinbone
I don't want the throne or the crown, I ain′t sell enough
You can have the jail or the ground, you ain't in hell enough
I'm the one that flood the gutters
Better tap your man and let him know P′ll love to cut his
And niggas is getting′ shot down, two guns up
Double R, S.P., holdin' D Block down
You don′t live that, you shouldn't say that
′Cause what come out your mouth'll get you shot down
Throwin′ your money around and we don't play that
Getting in our line'll get you shot down
We know where you hang, we know where you stay at
That bullshit you on′ll get you shot down
Here′s a few cliques that you shouldn't play with
G-Unit, Ruff Ryders′ll get you shot down
I′m a G-Unit motherfucking soldier, boy
And when you gon' get it in your brain?
The gate′s wide open and the dogs off the chain
I be that youngin with that gun that's tellin' ya stop frontin′
I be that youngin on the run after I pop somethin′
In the Bible I read death is of the tongue
And if you talk about death enough death is gon' come
Jay taught me how to flow, they shot him in the head
Randy ass was there, now he runnin′ scared
Some say I'm gangsta, some say I′m crazy
If you axe me I'll say I′m what the hood made me
Now I can stunt till my ass dead broke like JD
Or put a hundred grand on every nigga head that play me
See I'm cool with them Haitian mob niggas
They say "Sak pase Nap boule" and rob niggas
The media be tryin' to make a nigga look bad, what′s up with that?
See my flick next to Preme, Papi and Cat
And Montana, I kill ′em with the grammar
I enhanced in the slammer after bangin' them hammers
X, what up? (Aight)
You don′t live that, you shouldn't say that
′Cause what come out your mouth'll get you shot down
Throwin′ your money around and we don't play that
Getting in our line'll get you shot down
We know where you hang, we know where you stay at
That bullshit you on′ll get you shot down
Here′s a few cliques that you shouldn't play with
G-Unit, Ruff Ryders′ll get you shot down
Hey, yo, fuck y'all niggas talkin′ 'bout, think you playin′ with?
Double R, G-Unit, the same old shit
Put the faggots in the ring, watch 'em all quit
All y'all niggas is pussy, suck my dick
Ain′t nothin′ but a handful of man still standin'
I remember 50 in a cypher when Onyx was "Slammin"
Now we meet again, it′s all good, my nigga
Back to the street again, it's all hood, my nigga
Knock on wood, my nigga, we both walk the dog
We ain′t get to where we at by luck, shit was hard
But once we got through the trials it's all smiles
Till a big type nigga all of a sudden get wild
Now why you gotsta go and take me back to where I came from?
I′ma make you remember where you know my name from
45th Street, and blaow-blaow Ave
I done ran through your crew and only let off half, nigga
You don't live that, you shouldn't say that
′Cause what come out your mouth′ll get you shot down
Throwin' your money around and we don′t play that
Getting in our line'll get you shot down
We know where you hang, we know where you stay at
That bullshit you on′ll get you shot down
Here's a few cliques that you shouldn′t play with
G-Unit, Ruff Ryders'll get you shot down
If your head ain't off of your shoulders
You ain′t get shot, you got nicked nigga (Just nicked)
′Cause if my chrome hit a piece of your bone
It's gon′ do more than chip, nigga (A lot more than that)
Yeah, what the fuck is the problem?
The Porsche is red, the buckets is army
30 shot handguns, the gutter is starvin'
Niggas like me might rush your apartment
Bloodstains′ll fuck up your carpet, brain on the window
I smell murder every time that the wind blow
Tie him to the chair and then knock out his chinbone
I don't want the throne or the crown, I ain′t sell enough
You can have the jail or the ground, you ain't in hell enough
I'm the one that flood the gutters
Better tap your man and let him know P′ll love to cut his
And niggas is getting′ shot down, two guns up
Double R, S.P., holdin' D Block down
You don′t live that, you shouldn't say that
′Cause what come out your mouth'll get you shot down
Throwin′ your money around and we don't play that
Getting in our line'll get you shot down
We know where you hang, we know where you stay at
That bullshit you on′ll get you shot down
Here′s a few cliques that you shouldn't play with
G-Unit, Ruff Ryders′ll get you shot down
Writer(s): Earl Simmons, David Styles, Curtis James Jackson, Salaam Nassar Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com