Red Spyda - Maybe If I Sing (50 Cent Diss) lyrics

[Sheek Louch] 50 you a rat, you a coward, you a snitch You a b**h motherf**er now hear this {*tch-tch BOOM*} All you talk about is money and sales What you need to talk about is all them n***as that you put in them jails We don't dry snitch n***as (nah) rappin and whisperin Knowin that the rap police listenin Homey know just what he doin, who career he swipe That's aight, Ja got him, n***as say goodnight (aight) I'mma blast 'til I go on the run Just mad at Game cause he ain't like them, he ain't your son (b**hes) 50 this, 50 that; n***a 50 whack (50 whack) n***a laid you down, when you gon' get him back? (woo) And when you gon' say somethin hot on the track? (never) I guess the next time you get hit'll be your back A f**ed up n***a, let me get down wit'chu I make sure n***as don't hit you - ha ha [Hook] Hey yo maybe if I siiiiing, I'll be rich (should I sing?) And maybe if I rat on you, I'll be rich (or maybe I should rat on you) Maybe if I crossover, I'll be rich (I need to cross over I think) I wanna beeee, I wanna be, just like that 50 b**h (how can I be like that n***a) Maybe if I siiiiing, I'll be rich (should I sing son?) And maybe if I rat on you, I'll be rich (who should I give up?) Maybe if I crossover, I'll be rich (I need to cross over) I wanna beeee, I wanna be, just like that 50 b**h [Sheek Louch] Hey yo Banks you got a half-a**ed flow But f**in with homey, all you gon' get is half-a**ed dough And where the f** was you at wit'cha big-a** face When I was writin "Benjamins" with 'Kiss, Diddy and Ma$e I ain't heard of you homey, 'til you blew up quick But back then I'm pretty sure that you was on my dick (LOX n***a) I dropped L.O.X., chest to chest, back to back On Clue when, "If You Think I'm Jiggy" was whack I wore shiny suits, n***as knew I didn't belong But even back then I still never sang on a song I've been white-tee'd out (yeah) white haze and hash It's f**ed up, 50 makin y'all wear that trash (yeah!) What he do, put your clothes on the bed, put your sneakers on the floor And tell you what hat to put on your head? (ha ha ha) You lil' muh'f**ers to me daddy And I don't give a f** if the doors lift up in your Caddy [Hook] [Sheek Louch] Go Young Buck (go Young Buck) that's my n***a (that's my n***a) Even if 50 don't let you get bigger I see you run around stage wit'cha shirt off; you need some food You 'bout as big as "The Pa**ion of Christ" dude And I still got love for the dirty South But I ain't gon' respect no n***a with my dick in his mouth G-Unit gon' be gone once Dre bounce on you (G-G-G-G-G) And it's f**ed up cause Eminem tried to warn you You ain't as big as these white dudes that cut your check Think so? Wait and see who they go to next (D-Block) You forgot about the hood scramps Everybody ain't workin with bricks, some n***as got gramps No new guns, just them sh**s that jam f** it though, I'mma ride wit'chu do the d**h D-Block muh'f**er 'til there's no one left G-G-G-G-G-G... the f** outta here! (Yo bring in the hook son, bring in the hook) [Hook] minus the (ad libs) D-Block!