50 Cent - If I Can't (Remix) lyrics

Roc-A-Bloc in dis muthafucka (Uh! Oh!)

Sporty Theivz in this muthafucka (Uh! Oh!)

Pacewon in this muthafucka (Uh! Oh!)

Eyewitness in this muthafucka (Uh! Oh)

[Verse 1] Sporty Theivz

Chill Cousin

Send in the Narcs, it's website's in it they cocks

Wit niggaz thats hot wit rocks in they cigarete box

Legitamite spotz, rock's on the grim rim watch

Swimmin in crops, Spot hot simerin rocks

Remeber to drop the gun right in front of the cops

Some of them shots was locked but they wanted to pop

In front of the lock now bigger niggaz runnin your block

Sellin you shop, every weeks bag a couple hundered, don't stop

Hey yo, where your gun at, ooh that's nice niga run that

And sum that cat, leave yo jacket ?

Come back wit gas they want they bullets from gunnin me (oh word?)

In front of me suddenly, like they down to put one in me

But y'all aint runnin me, y'all ain't nuttin but reasoners

Nigga we can fight monday and everyday till the week ends

Behind your curtains peekin, you the softest goner

For your bitch, run up off her like, “GET OFF THIS CORNERâ€Â

Outside wit dead weights who dat in the red eight?

Anotha shook nigga drivin, keepin his head straight

When the L start rollin niggaz get they cell stolen

Drinkin and blowin and the party's still goin

[Pacewon]

Yo Yo

Bitches chasin after me

To No Limit like Master P

Got a Life To Live like Ericka Kane I stare at the pane

I smile and I chuckle, trunks sayin “Fuck youâ€Â

My style of rhyme make em walk like a duck do

Curious about the MC's that I cut through

Wit a razor it's the Pacer, spray stuff that fuck yo face up

It's kinda like Foreman fightin Fraiser, break yo boy's bonez

Step inside the ring more quick than Roy Jonez

Pack the 9 m.m. alloy chrome

Why y'all walk around wit a paranoid dome

Pacewon for life Roc-A-Bloc drop the madness

Savage for my hip hop niggaz makin cabbage

[Verse 2] Sporty Theivz

Yo Yo Now if it wasn't for the Bronx (uh huh)

Kirk Wouldn't loop it, and I woulnd't be here makin rapperz look stupid

I coulda went to school wit you, might even be cool wit you

But I'll blow you Ha like I don't know you Ha

And it's nothin personal, maybe the wrong day

Or you spit the wrong rhyme and I took it the wrong way

I can rock or not rock a rock, rock a drug, all courtesy of RoC-A-Bloc

Rock a glock in case I need to topz to pop, I aint curse but that's good yo

I'm tryin to stop, man FUCK y'all, damn i just did it again

Like tellin my girl “ FUCK OFF â€Â then hit it again

Like tryin to stop smokin then just FLit it again, Flit it again

Like a Nigga wont get it again

This is my game, and i'll ball till the death

Sendin girls home wit the smell of BALLZ on they breath

Wha

[Verse 3] Sporty Theiv$

Hats and broads knock my shit in cars

Astranaunts beep me from the starz, say they got my shit in Mars

Even as far as The Wizard of Oz spittin bars

Define gravity laws like star wars, guard doors

lock yo car doors, hardcore till my heart pause

Fuck shrimp, ? wit tartar sauce

Force knock u hard in the streets

make it hard to bring you back like it's weed and

You lost your receipt, fuck sweet and far from it,

which one of y'all want it?

Hundered shop by the hundred, y'all cats will never want it

Gun it, cats get blunted, roll they tree up

Put yo G up, lose it all, spray yo V up

See wha, who? me?

Neva !!!