Yatta attacks 50 and ripps holes in him, Em, and the rest of their crew.
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Lyrics
Fuck 50 - Yatta
(Verse)
It’s crunch time and you about to get slaughtered,
We if the fourth and your fifty cents worth to quarters,
Makin you think you done flirted with horror,
You survived nine shots bitch see if you could surf through water,
Take the beat away from this nigga, bet he ain’t hot
And who the fuck is you to tell a nigga that he ain’t Pac,
Knockin Ja cause he moved units using Shakur music,
Nigga you just mad cause he beat you to it,
Ah vest, you got it bad like the streets won’t chew it,
Nigga, I got a mag that’ll eat you through it
Grimey niggas that’ll creep through sewage, peep you and do it,
Slap you with a dum dum and leave you clueless bitch,
Your voice is shot you struggling to get it out,
Like a dick in your mouth huuuuuoooch, spit it out
And your flows is weak, shallow and simple, homie
You wouldn’t spit lead if you swallowed a pencil
Tell that white boy don’t get in the middle, Em you a riddle
Don’t even call him Eminem, he more like Skittles
You done came up off acting silly, you not coo coo
Get street with it so someone black could relate to you
(Chorus)
So if I catch you in the club, fuckin with them studs
I’m a hit cha in you grill where they hit you with that slug
Whoever want it next they can get ain’t no love
Homie you ain’t a thug, fuck you I got a grudge
If I catch you in the club, hangin with them studs
I’m a hit cha in you grill where they hit you with that slug
Whoever want it next they can get ain’t no love
Homie you ain’t a thug, fuck you I got a grudge
(Verse)
You don’t want it you albino bitch
I smack you, your moms, Halley, and that white wino bitch
I stomp ground like a rhino bitch
You killers ain’t no guerrillas you lookin at Optimus Primo bitch
It’s not no secret, I’m better than ya’ll, fuckin with me
Like fucking with six rubbers you’ll never get off
Peep the industry shit got soft
They got white boys rappin because they mad Tiger Wood got golf
I’m hood with it how the fuck you gonna stop me this mutha fucker a nazi
You got the wrong league fuck with the hockey, homie
You from the burbs, lie to me like you seen wild
Don’t make me turn your eight mile to a green mile
Look listen to me Obie Trice,
Your mans in trouble you similar to Kobe’s wife
I’m coming at him and I hope he bite
You could front if you want to but in your mind ya you know he’s nice
(Chorus)
So if I catch you in the club, fuckin with them studs
I’m a hit cha in you grill where they hit you with that slug
Whoever want it next they can get ain’t no love
Homie you ain’t a thug, fuck you I got a grudge
If I catch you in the club, hangin with them studs
I’m a hit cha in you grill where they hit you with that slug
Whoever want it next they can get ain’t no love
Homie you ain’t a thug, fuck you I got a grudge