"Heat" lyrics - 50 CENT

50 CENT

"Heat"

(Curtis Jackson / Andre Young)

[Skit]
Ayy, you want some of this shit?
Nah, I don't want that shit
I don't give a fuck
I don't play that shit, and I'm finna buss a cap in a nigga
Man, shut the fuck up!
Slow down, slow down, slow down
You see that brick house right there? That's the nigga crib
When he come out you gotta tighten his ass up
I'ma get in the other car
Aight

[Chorus:]
If there's beef, cock it and dump it, the drama really means nothin'
To me, I'll ride by and blow your brains out (Brains out)
There's no time to cock it, no way you can stop it
When niggas run up on you with them thangs out (Thangs out)
I do what I gotta do, I don't care I if get caught
The DA can play this motherfuckin' tape in court
I'll kill you, I ain't playin'
Hear what I'm sayin', homie, I ain't playin'
Catch you slippin', I'ma kill you, I ain't playin'
Hear what I'm saying, homie, I ain't playin'

Keep thinking I'm candy 'til your fucking skull get popped
And your brain hop out the top like Jack-in-the-box (Yeah)
In the hood, summertime is the killing season
It's hot out this bitch, that's a good enough reason (Woo)
I've seen gangstas get religious when they start bleeding
Saying "Lord, Jesus help me" 'cause they ass leaking
When that window roll down and that AK come out
You can squeeze your little handgun 'til you run out
And you can run for your backup
But them machine gun shells gon' tear your back up
God's on your side? Shit, I'm aight with that
'Cause we gon' reload them clips and come right back
It's a fact, homie, you go against me, you're fucked
I get the drop, if you can duck, you're luckier than Lady Luck
Look, nigga, don't think you safe 'cause you moved out the hood
'Cause your mama still around, dawg, and that ain't good
If you was smart, you'd be shook of me
'Cause I'll get tired of looking for you, spray your mama crib and let your ass look for me

My heart bleeds for you, nigga, I can't wait to get to you
Behind that twinkle in your eyes, I can see the bitch in you
Nigga, you know the streets talk
So there'll be no white flags and no peace talks
I got my back against the wind, I'm down to ride 'til the sun burn out
If I die today I'm happy how my life turned out
See the shootouts, I done been in 'em by myself
Locked up, I was in a box by myself
I done made myself a millionaire by myself
Now shit changed, motherfucker, I can hire some help
I done heard about the fifty grand you put in the hood
But your shooter finna get shot, it won't do him no good
With a pistol, I define the definition of pain
If you survive, your bones'll still fucking hurt when it rains
Oh, you a pro at playing Battleship? Well, this ain't the same
Little homie, this is a whole different type of war game
See, the losers end up in shackles and motherfucking chains
Or laid out in the street, leaking out they brains

[Bridge:]
After the fist fights it's gunfire, boy, you get the best of me (Best of me)
If you don't wanna get shot, I suggest you don't go testing me (Testing me)
All the wrong I've done, the Lord still keep on blessing me (Blessing me)
Finna run rap 'cause Dr. Dre got the recipe (Recipe, recipe)

[Outro:]
Yeah, haha, ayy, Dre
You got me feeling real bulletproof up in this motherfucker
'Cause the windows on my motherfucking Benz is bulletproof, nigga
'Cause my motherfucking vest is bulletproof, nigga
'Cause my motherfucking hat is bulletproof, nigga
But the Doc said if I get hit, I might get a fucking concussion
But better that than a hole in the head right, nigga? Hahahaha