Artist: 50 Cent
Album:  Get Rich or Die Tryin'
Song:   What Up Gangsta?
Typed by: s__a__n__j@hotmail.com

[50 Cent]
G-Unit (bo!) We in here (bo!)
We can get the drama poppin we don't care (bo! bo! bo!)
It's going down (bo!) Cause I'm around (bo!)
50 Cent, you know how I gets down.. down

[Chorus: repeat 2X]
What up, blood? (What)
What up, cuz? (What)
What up, blood? (What)
What up, gangstaaah?

[Verse One]
They say I walk around like got a 'S' on my chest
Naw, that's a semi-auto, and a vest on my chest
I try not to say nothin the D.A., might want to play in court
But I'll hunt or duck a nigga down like it's sport
Front on me, I'll cut ya, gun-butt ya or bump ya
You gettin money? I can't none with ya then fuck ya
I'm not the type to get knocked for D.W.I.
I'm the type to kill your connect when the coke price rise
Gangstas, they bump my shit then they know me
I grew up around some niggaz that's not my homies
Hundred G's I stash it (what) the mack I blast it (yeah)
D's come we dump the diesel and battery acid
This flow's been mastered, the ice I flash it
Chokes me, I'll have your mama pickin out your casket, bastard
I'm on the next level, right lane forget bezzle
Benz pedal to the metal, hotter than a tea kettle, blood (what)

[Chorus] - (first time w/o first line)

[Bridge]
We don't play that, we don't play that, we don't play that
(G-Unit) We don't play around

[Verse Twi]
I sit back, twist the best bud, burn and wonder
When gangstas bump my shit, can they hear my hunger?
When the fifth kick, duck quick, it sounds like thunder
In December I'll make your block feel like summer
The rap critics say I can rhyme, the fiends say my dope is a nine
Any chick I fuck with is a dime
I'm like Patti LaBelle, homie, I'm on my own
Where I lay my hat is my home, I'm a rolling stone
Cross my path I'll crush ya, thinkin I won't touch ya
I'll have your ass usin a wheelchair, cane or crutches
Industry hoe fuckers, in the hood they love us
Stomp a bone out your ass with some brand new Chuckers

[Chorus]

[Bridge] - repeat 4X