21 Gunz (50 Cent Diss) lyrics

[Intro: Irv Gotti & Ja Rule]
Come on Buck
Not guilty y'all got to feel me
Y'all gon' feel me n*gga (Yeah)
Y'all can't run from me (Yeah) now motherf*cker, (Brooklyn son in this motherf*cker) I'm here (To all my soldiers) (BJ)
Now who y'all ridin' with (All my n*ggas) (Ha ha, Preme) them b*tch n*ggas or us (Soldierssssss)
Oooohhhhh n*gga (Uh huh)
Murder Inc. (We right here) motherf*cker (Inc. empire)
You gon' have to deal (Still doin') with us now (Y'all know where we at)
Yo Rule (What we do) let's get these n*ggas, (Y'all know where we is) (Come on) come on, let's go

[Chorus: Ja Rule]
We got M1s, 32s, 45s, streetsweepers
Throw your guns up, 21 gun salute
n*ggas is soldiers, ready to die, recruits
We got 40 cals, 44s, Dillingers, 22s
Throw your guns up, 21 gun salute
Cause you're nobody 'till somebody kills you

[Verse 1: Ja Rule]
n*gga you walk around like you got an "S" on your chest
But wear a vest like a condom in the city of sex and violence
Problems, get me aroused, n*ggas is far gone
Why Lloyd Banks got gay lovers like Star Jones?
Why Young Buck got stuck for all them fake stones?
And why the hood is screamin' G-Unit's homos?
Now I ain't sayin' y'all no gay n*ggas, but sh*t
Y'all ain't actin' like no straight n*ggas!
Cause now this b*tch 50 snitchin' again
I'm throwin' shots to the wind
Cause me and Gotti, see, we dippin' again
Cause never have two men, owe so much to so many
And I'm so glad, I'm so patient, wit enemies
If revenge is the sweetest joy next to gettin' pus*y
Then killin' a pus*y n*gga is sweeter than bustin' in ya
And bust out more shots I'll do, cause you're nobody
'Till I find you and kill you!
Ha ha
[Chorus: Ja Rule]
We got M1s, 32s, 45s, streetsweepers
Throw your guns up 21 gun salute
n*ggas is soldiers, ready to die, recruits (Yeah)
We got 40 cals, 44s, (Yeah) Dillingers, 22s (Blaow)
Throw your guns up 21 gun salute (Yeah)
Cause you're nobody (Yeah) 'till somebody kills you

[Verse 2: Young Merc]
Word on the streets, these n*ggas ridin' 'round wit the feds
Like I don't still ride wit one in the head
Like I won't have one of my youngins hop out broad day with the spread
That 'K hit, Banks f*ck around and lose a leg
And Yayo slumped in the hospital bed, eatin' through IVs
With a machine helpin' him breath, it's I.N.C
And I don't hate, n*ggas hate on me
More money more problems like B.I.G. (Baby, Baby)
I'm in the hood, homie, that's where you can find me
Where we got O's for sale, not to mention a D
Got fiends on lard, n*gga I go hard
14 I was moving that white on my front yard
See I'm far from a n*gga that's just in the booth spittin' it
n*gga I'm still livin' it, try me I'll empty it
I'm still dirty n*gga, low in the rover, no holster
Rule give me the word, it's over
Yeah
[Chorus: Ja Rule]
We got M1s, 32s, 45s, streetsweepers
Throw your guns up, 21 gun salute
n*ggas is soldiers, (Yeah) ready to die, recruits
We got 40 cals, (Yeah) 44s, (Yeah) Dillingers, (Yeah) 22s
Throw your guns up, 21 gun salute (Gun salute)
Cause your nobody 'till somebody (Yeah) kills you

[Verse 3: Caddillac Tah]
I got a massacre in the cut waitin' to happen
Four b*tch n*ggas, a b*tch put 'em in the ditch, dirt nap 'em
The purse snatcher, chain thief, turn killer, the zoo keeper
With tranquilizers for the gorillas, n*gga, get your banana peeled quick
When them hammers spit, slip, get hit and watch the blood drip
And soak your G-Unit skee coat, and we on the speed boat
With bottles and smooth models that deep throat
Weed smoke in the air, literally in the lair, jet, we blowin' down
O.G. kush by the pound, now, got a 'K with a clear clip
That hold 100 rounds, and it's nothin' for me trunk it and come visit your town

[Verse 4: Ja Rule]
Cause on legal ground, The Inc's been acquitted (You know)
But you know the hood is screamin' we got away wit it (Ha ha ha)
Cause 50 your see-through, and n*gga I see you
Lookin' like a homo on the cover of GQ
Ascot in the air, literally in the air
Who dat (Yeah) Tyson Beckford was hittin' from the rear?
Your mom's (Ha ha ha) is queer, lesbian, gay (Come on)
So it makes sense that 50 got gay tendencies
[Chorus: Ja Rule]
We got M1s, (Ha ha ha) (n*ggaaaasssss) (What) 32s, (Come on) (What) 45s, (n*ggaaaa) streetsweepers
Throw your guns up, 21 gun salute
n*ggas is soldiers, (Soldierssssssssss) ready to die, recruits (You know)
We got 40 cals, 44s, Dillingers, (What, what) 22s
Throw your guns up, 21 gun salute
Cause your nobody 'till somebody kills you ('Till I find and kills you)

[Outro: Irv Gotti & Ja Rule]
Ha ha
Your plan got f*cked up n*gga (Yeah) (Yeah)
We right here (Murder Inc. sh*t)
You have to deal (Inc. empireeeeee) with the sh*t now n*gga (Ha ha) (We back n*ggas)
Them handcuffs don' came off n*gga (Ha ha ha haaaaaaaaa)
We free Rule (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Sittin' on about fifty million n*gga (Not fifteen)
Haaaaaa (Come on, come on)
Supreme Team commin' soon
The Supreme Team commin' soon
The Supreme Team commin' soon
Motherf*ckers