50 Cent - Bump That lyrics

[H] Yeah [50] Yeah [H] It's real, it's real [50] Yeah [H] Got 'em [Hook: 50 Cent] Bump that - n***as try to stunt on my clique Then when I get on that sh**, I bring it to 'em Where they pump at, 12-gauge Mausberg No shell in the head 'fore you put in work You gotta pump that - you done hit a n***a with it And you runnin, the police is comin, take my advice n***a Dump that - this is serious, these rap n***as I'm just havin fun with it, 50 Cent, Havoc bump that [50 Cent] My son asked, "Daddy why you carry a gun, you ain't a cop" I looked at him and said, "Sometimes you gotta shoot or get shot Wanna go to show-and-tell and show the cla** my Glock? Show 'em the clip, show 'em the beam, show 'em how Daddy lean" In the convertible Jag, 22-inch mags For a high school dropout, sh**, that ain't bad I ain't a Blood or a Crip, I'm doin my own thang G-UNIT! sh**, I done started my own gang I don't go that funny dance, I don't throw gang signs But I'm a gangsta to the core so I stay with a nine You think all I do is rap, then you don't know me good Have Smurf hangin out the sunroof to light up yo' hood Man, Carlito ain't never seen Blanco comin But if he did, you think he woulda started runnin? And I move with them Doublemint Twins, and two macs I'll leave you flat your back - BRRRAT! Take that [Hook] [Noyd] Uh-huh, aiyyo, aiyyo, aiyyo My life story is that gangsta thing, packin that thing Iced out diamond rings; f** linen It's Timbs and jeans, puffin cigars, stuff it with greens What's f**in with Queens? Nuttin and not a thing We kings of rap, shanks and gats, knuckles and bats Get at me, you want beef, come correct Stunt on any n***a in my clique-ah, you get clapped We sick, so quick, you be layin on your back Cause we don't give a f** n***a, we love to dump You don't wanna get jumped, better turn yo' music up And bump that - cause we comin with them guns black And cause of the hoodrats, know where your home's at f** that, this is for my n***as in the hoods that Slingin them blue caps, smokin that chronic sack Get that paper, watch for all haters Snitches and them b**hes and them inside traders n***a f** that [Hook] [Havoc] Yeah, yeah If you trippin with my n***as 50 and Noyd If anybody ask me n***a them my homeboys When it come to drama know we pack them big gats (We got a ton of slugs) b**h, and it's like that We them thirsty ones, no mask, we stick cats I never handcuff a ho, I let you whip that Let my money bubble, live off the kick back This midnight sh** is serious, where your kids at? These streets too dangerous to let them roam I done seen the gulliest of 'em, cry for home Like a fish out of water, they gasp and shake I'm a friend of the jooks and the dukes and the duct tape Like a Down South n***a I won't stop 'til I'm "skraight" Walkin up the street, testin out my heat Uh-huh.. and as you stand in disbelief When it comes to the slugs I ain't cheap n***a you know I.. [Hook]