I do it myself, I don't need no help
Blaaat, y'all niggas can't bang wit fifty
Catch you at the light, I blow ya ass off the Ducati
Y'all know what the fuck it is, man
(What's up, man?)
I know how to solve 'em
We gon' bring justice to the game
My cuzin Uzi out in L.A. done tripped and do the sets again
Them boys in Pelican Bay couldn't live in my tier
This flow's God sent, it's bound to reach ya
(Yeah, yeah, it's 50 Cent nigga)
In the hood we starvin', you don't want problems
Problem child, I'm familiar with problems
And I'll smack the fuckin' shit out your favorite DJ man
Uh, Harlem to Queens muthafuckas
Problem child, I'm familiar with problems
Nigga believe me when I say I don't care
I'm in debt with Christ, I done did that twice
Straight muthafuckas
And why can't you be man enough
Problem child
I write my lifestyle, y'all niggas is cheaters
The footprints in the sand is Satan carryin' your ass
Niggas jumped me 'cause they couldn't beat me one-on-one
My heart is a house homie, fear don't live here
(That's how we gon' put it down)
I got, "God, understand me" tattooed in my skin
See that look in my eye, ya betta keep on steppin'
See the hood is the deepest stole my innocence young
In the hood we starvin', you don't want problems
See the drama got me ridin' with a sawed-off shottie
Your lines come from feds, felons and don diva
Oh you the black hand of death
Shoot 'em up, rob 'em
(Yeah, go ahead, say something)
Muthafucka
You can check CNN for the, "War Report"
See the wounds in my skin they from a war of course
If you pussy I'ma smell you when you come around here
Yeah, street justice muthafucka
Got shot the fuck up tryin' to rob the wrong Mexicans
Muslims mix a lot, God studied they lessons
I know how to solve 'em
This the Drama King, man
Say I'm skinny now, but I look big in the coupe-dee
I'ma handle the bitch-ass DJ niggas
Man, niggas ain't gon' do me like Sammy did Gotti
Shoot 'em up, rob 'em
Homie that took the hit on me couldn't shoot this
Semi-automatic, luger tray, revolve 'em
If you a pimp like kid, why them hoes don't treat ya?
That's the sound of the man, cockin' that thang, that thang
Even when my luck's hard I still count my blessings
Problem child, I'm familiar with problems
I'm the young buck that let the gun buck
If you wanna ball like Kirk, now shorty let me teach ya
Semi-automatic, luger tray, revolve 'em
I rock a lot of ice, I dare you to scheme on it
Shoot 'em up, rob 'em
I know how to solve 'em
Give me a knife, I'll get rid of your neighborhood bully
See the flash, you heard the shot, you feel the burnin', I got ya
The fifth got a rubber grip and a beam on it
You handle the bitch-ass rap niggas
This cities split 'posed to let black cats cross your path
When I die, come back, I'ma tattoo it again
Problem child
Spent time on my cell floor, to sharpen my weapon
Yo, yo, check it out 50
Yo, in my hood we was taught not to say who shot ya
Roll the window down and say, "'Sup up, niggas get ready to duck"
To tell me where you're comin' from?
I'm finna put a shell in a nigga head
In the hood we starvin', you don't want problems
Face stone and the cross, there's a bitch I tossed
I'm nice, y'all niggas can't hang wit fifty
'Cause pops slid, mommy died before I turned eleven
To tell me where you're comin' from?
That's the sound of the man, clappin' that thang, thang
(Alright, alright)
Yo who there, who dat, who there man?
They say you can never repay the price for takin' a man's life
And why can't you be man enough
I must've broke a mirror at three and had bad luck for seven
Semi-automatic, luger tray, revolve 'em
(Heh, What's up, nigga?)
Say a prayer for me if you care for me 'cause I'm on the edge
(Yeah, yeah and, and say somethin ya bitch-ass nigga)
Say I'm born to rhyme, there's a shell and a nine
Then why your name ain't preacher
Give me a minute, I'll take a fuckin' car with a pully
