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Life's on the Line (Bonus Cut)

Nobody likes me

Nobody likes me, but that's okay

Cause I don't like y'all anyway

And I don't like y'all anyway

Fuck all y'all!

My watch talk for me, my whip talk for me

My gat talk for me

What up homie

For bitches who don't know me

They want to blow me 'cause the shit I floss wit sayin a lot for meI came into rap humble, I don't give a fuck now

Serve anybody like niggas who hustle uptown

Coke price go up, cats is come down

The D's run in my crib, I'm nowhere to be found

The bitch who hustle for me, they don't even stash tracks

They keep it on em, right there in they ass crack

When I don't like a nigga, I don't pretend to

I'll have the paramedics wrap your fucking head like a Hindu

Look, I ain't going nowhere, so get used to me

OG's look at me and see what they used to be

I'm that nigga that sold coke, the nigga that sold dope

The nigga that shot Dice when he broke to So So

The thug, they pop shit

The thug that pop clips

The thug that went from three and a half to whole bricks

Nigga ain't in his right mind, going against me

My picture's painted through words that make a blind man seeScream murder! (I don't believe you!)

Murder! (Fuck around and leave you!)

Murder! (I don't believe you!)

Murder, murder! (Your life's on the line!)Y'all niggas don't want no parts of me

I'm trying to figure out how y'all started me

Make me catch her on the late night

Pop shots wit the fifth and slide off wit the sixI'm not a marksmen while spark issue, I spray random

Not a pretty nigga but my moms think I'm handsome

I hate to hear "He say, She say" shit

Unless he say she say she on my dick

It's no coincidence, niggas who fuck wit me get shot up

I do a Cali style drive by and tear ya block up

You soft through, be putting up a crazy front

I stay wit the Mac, 'cause niggas tried to blaze me once

In the hood they be like, "Damn, 50 really spitted on em"

"You heard that shit?" "Yeah, 50 really shitted on em"

Beef, you don't want none, so don't start none

You just a small player in this game, play a part sonScream murder! (I don't believe you!)

Murder! (Fuck around and leave you!)

Murder! (I don't believe you!)

Murder, murder! (Your life's on the line!)These cats always escape reality when they rhyme

That's why they write about bricks and only dealt wit dimes

Leave it to them, and they say they got a fast car

Nascar, truck wit a crash bar

And TV's in the dash, pa

See em in the five wit stock rims, I just laugh, pa

I catch stunts when I ain't trying

I ain't lying, I sit Don P til I split up

Keep my rent split up

Get outta line, I get you hit up

Now if you say my name in your rhyme, watch what you say

You get carried away, you can get shot and carried away

Now here's a list of MC's that can kill you in eight bars:

50, Jay-Z and Nas

I'ma say this shit now and never again

We ain't buddies, we ain't partners and we damn sure ain't friends

The games you playing, you get killed like that

Acting like you all hard, you ain't built like that

See me when you see me nigga, oneScream murder! (I don't believe you!)

Murder! (Fuck around and leave you!)

Murder! (I don't believe you!)

Murder, murder! (Your life's on the line!)Y'all niggas don't want no parts of me

I'm trying to figure out how y'all started me

Make me catch her on the late night

Pop shots wit the fifth and slide off wit the six

Songwriters

TERRENCE QUENTIN DUDLEY, CURTIS JAMES JACKSONPublished by

Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

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