Problem Child

[Intro: sample & (Jadakiss)]
(Load up, hahahahaha)
"Why can't you be man enough"
(Yeah, where you at, nigga?)
"To tell me where, ya comin' from"
(Load up nigga, wooo! HA-HAAAEEH!)

[Verse 1: Jadakiss]
Yo, can't really figure this clown out
Where is he from, Jamaica Queens, Cali or down South?
I could let a L.A. gun hit him
But Grape Street already told me you payin' to run with 'em
I could let a New York knife poke him with one of my throw aways
But I don't want to see no cops smoke him, uhh
Somebody tell Pa we ridin'
And get ready to auction off the car he die in (eBay)
Whenever we bump heads, since you like havin' people with you
Get you a hospital with bunk bed
Without Dr. Dre, you would just make slow jams
Come up out of that witness protection program
Hov' don't really respect you, get in your place
If B.I.G. was alive, he'd probably spit in your face
Nas was doing just fine without you (Esco)
And Pac probably would've made an album about you
So I guess that just leaves me here to get rid of you
And Rakim and them, they don't even consider you
Em know you ain't got nothin' for Jada
And I know he appreciates all the money you made him
It's two thousand and five, nobody fights fair
I just know an instrumental's your worst nighmare
But you tough and you bad, too bad, you mad
Probably been in your old hood more than you have
Yeah, you sold more records than me
But in the streets you gon' always be second to me
We was damn near feelin' you
Even though your career is based off somebody damn near killin' you
Shit you be doing ain't even considered rappin' to us
This is probably the best thing that happened to us
The best Wanksta, internet gangsta
Magazine mobster, shit on your whole roster
Get ready to say Hail Marys and Our Father's
Get out your black suits and hard bottoms
Haha, don't worry, I got him
He ain't a problem child, just a child with a problem

[Break: sample & (Jadakiss)]
"Why can't you be man enough"
(We love it, nigga, let's go)
"To tell me where, ya comin' from"

[Verse 2: Styles P]
D-Block, don't think it, nigga
Take a piss in your Formula 50, drink it, nigga
Get shot out the Reeboks nigga
Got shot and ain't shoot none back, you'se a biatch nigga
If I would've got shot on grandma's stoop
I would've had somebody grab my duke, right!?
In the streets they say, "50, who shot ya?"
Named three niggas soon as he came out the doctor
And you far from a gangsta, nigga
You was talkin' 'bout yourself when you made Wanksta, nigga
Listen, why work out, cock guns on the DVD
Run around with cops from homicide and TNT
Nigga you can suck my dick
Come around without cops, shit's on, you gon' get touched quick
Cause, I was at the VIBE when it jumped off
Put fifty grand up, you pussy you ain't even lift a hand up
Your man stabbed somethin', police grab somethin'
But besides that, I ain't seen nobody man up
Shit, what the plot is about?
Cause you know that, you don't need a dentist to get shot in the mouth
And the hood hate ya shit, but you hot in the south
It's the crackers that buy the album, what's the plottin' about?
Many men make a wish, but we ain't many men
So you gon' get death when we let them semis spit, what?

[Outro: Sample]
"Why can't you be man enough"
"To tell me where, ya comin' from"
"Why can't you be man enough"
"To tell me where, ya comin' from"