Letra de 'Death To My Enemies' de 50 Cent
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Death To My Enemies es una canción de 50 Cent cuya letra tiene innumerables búsquedas, por lo que hemos decidido que merece tener su lugar en este sitio web, junto con otras muchas letras de canciones que los internautas desean conocer.
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Dre, niggas think we bullshitting
Yeah, yeah
Nigga, try me, son, he best have the heat on him
Whip him outta his clothes, get to mopping the street with him
Boy, I'll put your body in a bag
Front on me, I'm on ya ass
I bring money to my niggas that bring death to my enemies
I bring money to my niggas that bring death to my enemies
Nigga front on me, the goons and goblins come out
Bushmaster hundred shot, drums'll run out
They dumb out, you heard of me, they call me big homie
Me I make the register ring, I'm the cash cow
They make the hammers ring, they on ya ass now
Hair trigger, stare nigga, yeah, niggas'll flip
Six shot semi assault, let it off at your will
Here I is, where the money is, I still get biz
If D's know about the beef, you gon' still get did
It be your tombstone and your fucking grave they dig
Have that ass in the precinct trying to talk to the pigs
I'm like Damien, nigga, when I start getting loose on you
Closest thing to Lucifer, you think you got a noose on you
I make it hard to breathe
I come with your hustle, air it out, make it hard to eat
Have you lookin' both ways like you crossing the street
Nigga, try me, son, he best have the heat on him
Whip him outta his clothes, get to mopping the street with him
Boy, I'll put your body in a bag
Front on me, I'm on ya ass
I bring money to my niggas that bring death to my enemies
I bring money to my niggas that bring death to my enemies
Yeah, niggas send me the wrong message, we gon' fucking kill the messenger
Your whole clique, hollow tips'll tear up the best of ya
This ain't the "Carter" nigga, this is Sparta
It's harder, I die and be a martyr, respect me like your father
Let off a clip or let a case off
I have your pussy ass running like a race horse
Follow orders now, Yay' shoot his face off
You can have one, blast one, it's mad fun
See how when you listen to me all of the cash gone
I was born with the tech, it's a birth defect
I was conceived in the bins, ended up in a Benz
This is what happens when have-not's turn into Sasquatch
Let the gat pop, boogie down on the back blocks
It's horrific, nah, it's terrific
I got it if you sniff it, go 'head nigga twist it
Get lifted, goddamn I'm gifted
Nigga, try me, son, he best have the heat on him
Whip him outta his clothes, get to mopping the street with him
Boy, I'll put your body in a bag
Front on me, I'm on ya ass
I bring money to my niggas that bring death to my enemies
I bring money to my niggas that bring death to my enemies
Yeah, I tell 'em ride on 'em then they ride on 'em
Get the line on 'em and squeeze the. 9 on 'em
Headshot, . 40-Glock blow his mind on him
It's a hit, not a jux leave the shines on 'em
Now you can watch me, nigga, like the police watch me
I move proper, go ahead catch a shell trying to stop me
That 430 Spider, carbon fibre
And my dog is like Al Qaeda, natural fighter
Rapid fire, you're sweet like apple cider
The Mack'll fire, mask like Michael Myers
It's off the wire when I get on my bullshit
No smiles, no laughs, you gets no pass
You can explain to my niggas while they whoop yo' ass
My hands itch when the money comes, it's hard to explain it
Last time I itched like this, a truckload came in
Get money, get bread, that's what I do kid
Nigga, try me, son, he best have the heat on him
Whip him outta his clothes, get to mopping the street with him
Boy, I'll put your body in a bag
Front on me, I'm on ya ass
I bring money to my niggas that bring death to my enemies
I bring money to my niggas that bring death to my enemies
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Otras canciones de 50 Cent
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