My FoFo

Yeah, that’ll do it
Yeah, I love hip hop
I love this motherfuckin hip-hop game
This nigga here is a little nigga man
Stay in your motherfuckin lane nigga
You fuckin with a Don nigga
Uhh, CRACK, follow me
50, meet 50, he’s the fakest you ever seen
Curtis, Curtis Jackson, how come you can never ever be seen
Once I got you, I’ma give you — my, my fo fo-fo-fo
My, my fo fo-fo-fo; my, my fo fo-fo-fo
I’ma give it to you baby, nice and slow
50 you gon' end up dead when you fuckin with Crack
Talkin about you gon' pop off, where the fuck you be at
(Cook! Cook!) I see MJ in the hood more than Curtis
Matter fact, this beef shit is making niggas nervous
It’s gonna be families grieving every Sunday service
End up with your head popped off thanks to Curtis
But he don’t care, he stay locked up in the house an' shit
Steroid up, and he won’t come about that bitch
Is it me or «Candy Shop» sound like «Magic Stick?»
In the video, this nigga 50 'bout to strip
Shakin his ass, what the fuck is wrong with this nigga
50 don’t make me
Oh yeah, you got sixty-five niggas on your team
And they’re not from Southside — Jamaica, Queens
They’re the boys in blue, I’m just speakin the truth
Now we all see the bitch in you, follow me
50, meet 50, he’s the fakest you ever seen
Curtis, Curtis Jackson, how come you can never ever be seen
Once I got you, I’ma give you — my, my fo fo-fo-fo
My, my fo fo-fo-fo; my, my fo fo-fo-fo
I’ma give it to you baby, nice and slow
Now let’s take it back to the Vibe awards
Where that nigga disrespect and then snuffed your boss
A minute ago, all I heard was G-G-G-G-Unit
50 niggas ran and they didn’t even do shit
That’s a shame, I was sittin right in the front
Waitin for you niggas to dump
Where all the guns and them Teflon vests-es?
We them Terror Squad boys, you should know not to test us
«Hate it or Love It,» The Game’s on top
Now you jealous of him, when your shit gon' stop?
You «CB4,» youse a bitch nigga «Straight Outta Locash»
L.A. don’t believe him, this nigga is so ass
You dissed «Lean Back,» said my shit was a dud
Now tell me have you ever seen 'em up in the club?
Nope, nope, no shawty — that’s right
You singin more than you rappin now Fifty that ain’t right
50, meet 50, he’s the fakest you ever seen
Curtis, Curtis Jackson, how come you can never ever be seen
Once I got you, I’ma give you — my, my fo fo-fo-fo
My, my fo fo-fo-fo; my, my fo fo-fo-fo
I’ma give it to you baby, nice and slow
Now I told y’all niggas I don’t battle rap man
This ain’t a motherfuckin movie nigga
It’s Crack BITCH!
NEW YORK! I know what y’all thinkin' man
Y’all thinkin' Jada gon' slay him lyrically
This nigga be crazy for dissin' Fat Joe man; he really crazy though
This nigga be walkin' around with twenty cops talkin' shit on records
Never comin' out his house
Feel like he can’t get touched man
I respond one time, one time only
It ain’t gon' be no more songs from me man
And this for all the muh’fuckers who doubted Crack man
Trust me, nigga could response ten thousand times
I ain’t talkin back to that nigga
The one thing I will promise you
If I want get you I’m gon' get you… and that’s it man
It’s Crack bitch
It’s gon' be a real ugly summer man