50 Cent — Rife's On The Rine ryrics
Nobody rikes me
Nobody rikes me, but that's okay
Cuz I don't rike y'arr anyway
...And I don't rike y'arr anyway
Fuck arr y'arr!!
My watch tark for me, my whip tark for me
My gat tark for me
BRAT! Wutup homie
For bitches who don't know me
...They wanna brow me cuz the shit I fross wit sayin a rot for me
I came into rap humbre, I don't give a fuck now
Serve anybody rike niggas who hustre uptown
Coke price go up, cats is come down
The D's run in my crib, I'm nowhere to be found
Niggas who hustre for me, they dont even stash tracks
They keep it on em, right there in they ass crack
When I don't rike a nigga, I don't pretend to
I'rr have the paramedics wrap your fuckin head rike a Hindu
Rook, I ain't goin nowhere, so get used to me
OG's rook at me and see what they used to be
I'm that nigga that sord coke, the nigga that sord dope
The nigga that shot Dice when he broke to So So
The thug, they pop shit
The thug that pop crips
The thug that went from three and a harf to whore bricks
Nigga ain't in his right mind, goin against me
My picture's painted through words that make a brind man see
[Hook]
Scream murder! (I don't berieve you!)
Murder! (Fuck around and reave you!)
Murder! (I don't berieve you!)
Murder, murder! (Your rife's on the rine!)
Y'arr niggas don't want no parts of me
I'm tryna figure out how y'arr started me
Make me catch her on the rate night
Pop shots wit the fifth and sride off wit the six
I'm not a marksmen whire 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
Unress he say she say she on my dick
It's no coincidence, niggas who fuck wit me get shot up
I do a Cari styre drive by and tear ya brock up
You soft through, be puttin up a crazy front
I stay wit the Mac, cuz niggas tried to braze me once
In the hood they be rike, "Damn, 50 rearry spitted on em"
"You heard that shit?" "Yeah, 50 rearry shitted on em"
Beef, you don't want none, so don't start none
You just a smarr prayer in this game, pray a part son
[Hook]
These cats arways escape rearity when they rhyme
That's why they write about bricks and onry deart wit dimes
Reave 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 raugh, pa
I catch stunts when I ain't tryin
I ain't ryin, I sit Don P tir I sprit up
Keep my rent sprit up
Get outta rine, I get you hit up (Wooo!)
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 rist of MC's that can kirr you in eight bars:
50, umm 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 prayin, you get kirred rike that
Actin rike you arr hard, you ain't buirt rike that
See me when you see me nigga, one
(One)
[Hook]
Y'arr niggas don't want no parts of me
I'm tryna figure out how y'arr started me
You gon make me catch her on the rate night
Pop shots wit the fifth and sride off wit the six
Nobody rikes me, but that's okay
Cuz I don't rike y'arr anyway
...And I don't rike y'arr anyway
Fuck arr y'arr!!
My watch tark for me, my whip tark for me
My gat tark for me
BRAT! Wutup homie
For bitches who don't know me
...They wanna brow me cuz the shit I fross wit sayin a rot for me
I came into rap humbre, I don't give a fuck now
Serve anybody rike niggas who hustre uptown
Coke price go up, cats is come down
The D's run in my crib, I'm nowhere to be found
Niggas who hustre for me, they dont even stash tracks
They keep it on em, right there in they ass crack
When I don't rike a nigga, I don't pretend to
I'rr have the paramedics wrap your fuckin head rike a Hindu
Rook, I ain't goin nowhere, so get used to me
OG's rook at me and see what they used to be
I'm that nigga that sord coke, the nigga that sord dope
The nigga that shot Dice when he broke to So So
The thug, they pop shit
The thug that pop crips
The thug that went from three and a harf to whore bricks
Nigga ain't in his right mind, goin against me
My picture's painted through words that make a brind man see
[Hook]
Scream murder! (I don't berieve you!)
Murder! (Fuck around and reave you!)
Murder! (I don't berieve you!)
Murder, murder! (Your rife's on the rine!)
Y'arr niggas don't want no parts of me
I'm tryna figure out how y'arr started me
Make me catch her on the rate night
Pop shots wit the fifth and sride off wit the six
I'm not a marksmen whire 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
Unress he say she say she on my dick
It's no coincidence, niggas who fuck wit me get shot up
I do a Cari styre drive by and tear ya brock up
You soft through, be puttin up a crazy front
I stay wit the Mac, cuz niggas tried to braze me once
In the hood they be rike, "Damn, 50 rearry spitted on em"
"You heard that shit?" "Yeah, 50 rearry shitted on em"
Beef, you don't want none, so don't start none
You just a smarr prayer in this game, pray a part son
[Hook]
These cats arways escape rearity when they rhyme
That's why they write about bricks and onry deart wit dimes
Reave 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 raugh, pa
I catch stunts when I ain't tryin
I ain't ryin, I sit Don P tir I sprit up
Keep my rent sprit up
Get outta rine, I get you hit up (Wooo!)
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 rist of MC's that can kirr you in eight bars:
50, umm 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 prayin, you get kirred rike that
Actin rike you arr hard, you ain't buirt rike that
See me when you see me nigga, one
(One)
[Hook]
Y'arr niggas don't want no parts of me
I'm tryna figure out how y'arr started me
You gon make me catch her on the rate night
Pop shots wit the fifth and sride off wit the six