300 Shots by DJ Whoo Kid (Ft. 50 Cent, Lloyd Banks, Mobb Deep, M.O.P., Tony Yayo & Young Buck)
300 Shots by DJ Whoo Kid (Ft. 50 Cent, Lloyd Banks, Mobb Deep, M.O.P., Tony Yayo & Young Buck)

300 Shots

DJ Whoo Kid & 50 Cent & Lloyd Banks & Tony Yayo & Young Buck & M.O.P. & Mobb Deep * Track #3 On G-Unit Radio Part 13: The Return of the Mixtape Millionaire

300 Shots Lyrics

[Verse 1: 50 Cent]
Yeah....
Y'all niggas spend too much time watchin' flicks
Who you wanna be? Tony Montana n shit?
Well you can start, right before his ass get hit
But when I walk up you can see the shotgun spit
Ferrari roof go down, Lam doors go up
I got big boy toys, when you gon' grow up?
Nigga knick knack pattywack, give a dog a bone
I'm still down to sell crack out a fiends home
God bless the child with a flawless flow
Say gave a nigga the talent to push blow
Like a pimp watch a hoe, I watch the grams go
Watch the stash grow, straight cash flow
I'm a hundred time bigger than Preme in his prime
100 mill in my account and I'm still on the grind
When you ain't in my clique, it's hard to shine
I mean talent like this is so hard to find
G-Unit!

[Verse 2: Tony Yayo]
I don't dream now that I'm livin, I'm out to get it
My truck an ak can hit it
I'm a rap tycoon, I was fly in the whom
So I'm gettin ass like a public bathroom
I went from Rikers Island, to shows at the garden
Automatic startin' in the drop got your bitch pussy fartin
My album about to drop in 7 days
But I still poke a rapper at the VMA's
Kilo's in a gram, po's be my fans
That's why I'm overseas doin shows in Japan
I got Gats from the future, see-through guns
So when my bullets leave the chamber I can see you run
Nigga I flip my advance before I ran through it
'cause that money turn haters into that barmen fluid
My dope be a 8, from a 1 to 10
Keepin in a cool place from Uncle Ben

[Verse 3: Young Buck]
A country nigga still lookin' for a New York hoe
About to kill these niggas with this New York flow
Say one nigga name homie you gon' go
You in that Hot97 so New York know
I use to listen to Jada I've never listened to Joe
I couldn't tell ya how now one of his verses go
Seen Styles and Sheek out, doin promo
I was like "What Up?" and they was like "Uh-Oh!"
I ain't just get cold, see my block been hot
50 give me the word, niggas would have been pop
Fuck a interview nigga I get into you nigga
Enough hearin' 'bout what you finna do nigga

[Verse 4: Prodigy]
Murder at it's best, this is rap at it's finest
You can see my verse, even if you the blindest
My raps is vivid, ya bitch I hit it
All ready, yeah that's right this is spaghetti
Head mob niggas, my gun bomb niggas
Go 'head and shoot, my pistol nuke niggas
When I let off the whole Earth feel the effects
I mix cd's and treat 'em like album shit
Our albums, we treat 'em like the president elections
On our champagne campaign livin' up dresses
On the dance flo' the Hennessee it flow
When you fuck with G-Unit then you gon' fuckin' blow
When you fuck with Mobb Deep, then bring some fuckin' hoes
'cause it's a gang of us and we ready to go
'cause after the party after the party we get so drunk
We forget all about the next day hun

[Verse 5: Havoc]
Get it teflon don, ak-filled
Get your mouth blown off like the hand that feeds you
Yeah little motherfucker put the hammer in diesel
G-Unit, game over this is only a preview
Niggas shittin' on theyself gotta rock in the huggy
The coke in the pot rise to the top like dougy
Got chicks with a ass like Buffy, yes homie trust me
Plays fuck me, kick 'em out when they try to get touchy
Qb/Southside, if you wanted to Trestle
Man your man is hot, you don't wanna get next to
Like 50's beef is mine and mine is his
See this serious, motherfuckin ask them kids
Niggas wild on the streets, scared to death to bid
Sell anything that stay from the bottles and cuffs, nigga butt

[Verse 6: Billy Danze]
You about to witness an M. O. P thug out
And for you niggas hatin' listen to the sounds of the Unit kiss my ass with your tongue out, nigga
Fuck a warden I ring bells like a doorman
So all you motherfuckers take it easy like sunday mornin (Get 'em up!)
Put 'em up, wrap ya hand or knuckle up
Ground zero we never ran never will we fuck 'em up
Dude you gonna get your ass banged fuckin' with that homie Lloyd Banks
Wild gun style what the fuck y'all think..

[Verse 7: Lloyd Banks]
Niggas ain't got nuttin' on me (Uh-uh), aybody know that (Yeah)
Niggas run up on a V, aybody gon' clap
And if he ain't what he say, n aybody gon' rat
You just rap, and catch your little body on waxs
I'ma Mack, I don't hang out with no lobby for rats (Nah)
They come swallow me back off Bacardi and Yack (Yeah)
I'm in the club with the snub 'cause the party's a trap
And a stray from the K'll take a part of ya hat
I'm gettin cake like you wouldn't believe but I'm accepted
By mainstream America and good in the p's (Hello)
Now niggas wan' talk all greasy (Why?)
Like they ain't used to open up for me in New York on TV (You know)
Skip all chatter, and walk off easy (Uh)
A milly'll make your body looker look all measly (See?)
Ya bitch spotted me on the dolo and I'm low-low (Uh)
Damn near broke a monolo for a photo (Uh)
I ain't ridin' around with a Dodo that's a No-No (Uh)
Momma taught me better than that you go to go ho (Yea!)
Look at me now, a product of poverty (Yea!)
I can't wash it away I got it inside of me (Yea!)
The hoods fulla hurt, blood dollars and robbery (Yea!)
The critics owe me an apology and probably (Uh) (Geah!)
A sixteen away from the lottery (Uh huh) (You know)
Cause caked up is one of the things I gotta be (Gotta get mine)
I'm wrapped up in a dumb shit (Why?) cause nigga got all kinds of beef they want you to come get (Uh)
I'm two-steppin' with my weapon, 'cause they don't check 'em (Uh) (Nah)
I know niggas from 'round there and they don't rec him (They don't know you)
All of them niggas was fans when I met 'em (Uh huh) just waitin' in the wind for niggas to come and get 'em (Geah)
On my next album, I'ma have some fun wit' 'em (Yea)
Spank 'em all around 'till everybody forget 'em
They envy, cause I got the hood in a frenzy
And I move (Uh) smooth (Uh) with the wood (Uh) in a Benzy (Yea!)
Blend in, niggas'll body you for a [?] (Uh huh)
Baby need food, baby momma need Fendi (Yeah!)
You know me, New York cap on
Batman whip that I got off a rap song (Uh)
On the van [?] with the weed and a strap on (Uh)
Teflon n a wife beater n black on, it's on!

[50 Cent Talking]
Wassup? This the kid 50 Cent man
Its going down, ya heard me?
Niggas got me mad, ya talk, ya niggas got me all fucked up..
I'm finna kill few of you mother fuckers man..
Know what I'm sayin'? Watch ya niggas say somethin' smart out ya mouth, boy
You better stop usin' ya mouth, before I help you not be able to use ya mouth Mother fucker!

300 Shots Q&A

Who wrote 300 Shots's ?

300 Shots was written by Billy Danze & Havoc & Young Buck & Prodigy of Mobb Deep & Lloyd Banks & Tony Yayo & 50 Cent.

Your Gateway to High-Quality MP3, FLAC and Lyrics
DownloadMP3FLAC.com