Artist: 50 Cent Album: Get Rich or Die Tryin' Song: Gotta Make it to Heaven Typed by: Lcstyle@hotmail.com (Chorus) I gotta make it to heaven, fuck going through hell Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven I gotta make it to heaven, fuck going through hell Gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven Some say I'm paranoid I say I'm careful how I choose my friends I been to ICU once, I ain't going again First D got murked, then Roy got murked And homey still in the hood, why he ain't getting hurt I smell somethin' fishy man it might be a rat Damn niggas switchin sides on niggas just like that You know me, I stay wit a bitch on her knees and give guns away in the hood like its government cheese Spray off Suzuki's eleven hundred cc's No plate on the back, straight squeezing the Mac In the hood they identify niggas by they cars So I switch up whips to stay off the radar I ain't gotta be around to make shit hot I send Yayo to dump 30 shots on ya block So spray dat Tec nigga if I say get it done An make it wet niggas if you round me son 2 x (chorus) When I come through the hood, I don't stop to rap ta niggas Get close enough to smack you then clap you nigga Pac tried to front so I waved the chrome at his ass Point blank range I spat and threw a bone at his ass Two weeks later niggas came through with Mac's to lay me down They sprayed I played Dead and got the fuck off the ground Out the blue I get a phone call “50 waddup” they sent a bitch at me I sent the bitch back cut up I don't play that pussy shit, I done told you boy Front on me, you gon meet one of my soldiers boy Cousin twin shot up his mamma crib now he in Jail Trippin on Fliks of Blu Cantrell pussy in black tail Pac mamma moved, but she don't talk to him no more The shells from twin 4-4's, blew the hinge off her do' Without that check every month how she gon pay for the crib Man social service finna come an take dem kids 2 x (chorus) Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change the courage to change the things I can the wisdom to know the difference In AA they make you say that that's the prayer they burn in your head when you a case act Man I might talk to you while we up in them pens but when we come home that don't mean we goin' fuckin' be friends Shells scratch ya head close enough to hear 'em whistling Thank god they missed you, an go grab ya pistol In the hood niggas runnin' round actin' crazy Buying little air Jordans for maybe babies See it might be his, and it might be yours Cause them broads in the projects is straight up whores Man it don't take much for you to get in them draws You can have 'em on they back or on all fours You ain't got to tell me, you feelin' this shit cause I hear what I'm sayin' I know I'm killin' this shit