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DJ Salam Wreck - Shot Down lyrics

[Intro: 50 Cent]
Over and over I done told ya, boy
I'm a G-Unit motherf**ing soldier, boy
And when you gon' get it in your brain?
The gate's wide open and the dogs off the chain

[Verse 1: 50 Cent]
I be that youngin with that gun that's tellin' ya stop frontin'
I be that yougin on the run after I pop somethin'
In the Bible I read d**h is of the tongue
And if you talk about d**h enough d**h is gon' come
Jay taught me how to flow, they shot him in the head
Randy a** was there, now he runnin' scared
Some say I'm gangsta, some say I'm crazy
If you ask me I'll say I'm what the hood made me
Now I can stunt 'til my a** dead broke like JD
Or put a hundred grand on every n***a head that play me
See I'm cool with them Haitian mob n***as
They say ''Sak pase Nap boule'' and rob n***as
The media be tryin' to make a n***a look bad, what's with that?
See my flick next to Preme, Papi and Cat
And Montana, I k** 'em with the grammar
I enhanced in the slammer after bangin them hammers
X, what up? (Aight)

[Hook: 50 Cent]
You don't live that, you shouldn't say that
Cause what come out your mouth'll get you shot down
Throwin' your money around and we don't play that
Getting in our line'll get you shot down
We know where you hang, we know where you stay at
That bullsh** you on'll get you shot down
Here's a few cliques that you shouldn't play with
G-Unit, Ruff Ryders'll get you shot down

[Verse 2: DMX]
f** y'all n***as talkin' 'bout, think you playin' with?
[Lyrics from: https:/]
Double R, G-Unit, the same old sh**
Put the faggots in the ring, watch 'em all quit
All y'all n***as is p**y, s** my dick
Ain't nothin' but a handful of man still standin'
I remember 50 in a cypher when Onyx was "Slammin"
Now we meet again, it's all good, my n***a
Back to the street again, it's all hood, my n***a
Knock on wood, my n***a, we both walk the dog
We ain't get to where we at by luck, sh** was hard
But once we got through the trials it's all smiles
'Til a big type n***a all of a sudden get wild
Now why you gotsta go and take me back to where I came from?
I'mma make you remember where you know my name from
45th Street, and blaow-blaow Ave
I done ran through your crew and only let off half, n***a


[Verse 3: Styles P]
If your head ain't off of your shoulders
You ain't get shot, you got nicked n***a (just nicked)
Cause if my chrome hit a piece of your bone
It's gon' do more than chip, n***a (a lot more than that)
Yeah, what the f** is the problem?
The Porsche is red, the buckets is army
30 shot handguns, the gutter is starvin
n***as like me might rush your apartment
Bloodstains'll f** up your carpet, brain on the window
I smell murder every time that the wind blow
Tie him to the chair and then knock out his chinbone
I don't want the throne or the crown, I ain't sell enough
You can have the jail or the ground, you ain't in hell enough
I'm the one that flood the gutters
Better tap your man and let him know P'll love to cut his
And n***as is gettin shot down, two guns up
Double R, S.P., holdin' D Block down


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