50 Cent
Shooting Guns
[Pre-Chorus]
Got my guns and magazines
And a red one from a beam
Nothing is quite as it seems
Fuck with me and you will see

[Chorus]
Shoot your gun I'll make you a believer
Now you better pray for something more

[Verse 1: 50 Cent]
I go to war to 'til heart stop, n***as ain't listening
Get the thumping and the dumping at your newborn's christening
Tell your homie, tell his homies, he 'gon need more homies
Ain't this a bitch, I got the extended clip right on me
And my diamonds on my neck, I dare a n***a to scheme on it
The Ruger on deck, it's hard to miss with the beam on it
I'll give your ass a permanent nap, sing you a lullabye
I got money to run, so fuck a alibi

[Chorus]
Shoot your gun I'll make you a believer
Now you better pray for something more

[Verse 2: 50 Cent]
Yeah, I believe you when you say you tough, n***a
All that means is you fucked, n***a
I get the drop I'm on it
Morning, noon or night, I spot ya, I got ya
Wake up cuffed to your bed, cops asking, "who shot ya?"
As the world turns, we live and we learn
The hollow tips burn and I ain't concerned if I ain't hit
And I ain't hit, so a n***a don't really give a shit
You know who you fucking with
Come through, dump more than a clip
N***as be on some stupid shit
'Till they get hit, ain't that a bitch?
[Verse 3: Kidd Kidd]
K-I double, shotgun barrel double
My homies front a couple and I move 'em on a double
Racks in the duffel, Mac with the muzzle
Makin' circles in you, all black like a tunnel
I only know how to hustle, can't stay outta trouble
I got a big gun, muthafuck a scuffle
Kidd Kidd, will you ever change?
Fuck no, Pimp zone, Rida gang, you already fuckin' know

[Pre-Chorus]
Got my guns and magazines
And a red one from a beam
Nothing is quite as it seems
Fuck with me and you will see

[Chorus]
Shoot your gun now make you a believer
Now you better pray for something more

[Verse 4: Kidd Kidd]
Man these n***as so fake, I call 'em knock-offs
Like Pringles I pop the top off
You ain't hot, dawg, you the fucking Micky Mouse song
I'm on fire like Louisiana hot sauce
Brand new J's cost a buck fifty n***a
You scuff these I’ll scar your face, buck fifty, n***a
Been fucking with them pigs, you a guinea, n***a
And you always begging, you's a ''give me'' n***a
I wear my gun like its trendy, n***a
You pussy and ain't shit, kitty litter
Uh, see where all that bitching get ya
Right in front of this pistol, huh
[Pre-Chorus]
Got my guns and magazines
And a red one from a beam
Nothing is quite as it seems
Fuck with me and you will see

[Chorus]
Shoot your gun now make you a believer
Now you better pray for something more