What Up Gangsta, Pt. 2 50 Cent
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "What Up Gangsta, Pt. 2" by 50 Cent. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Intro]
What up, Blood? (What?)
What up, Cuz? (What?)
What up, Blood? (What?)
What up, gangsta?
What up, Blood? (What?)
What up, Cuz? (What?)
What up, Blood? (What?)
What up, gangsta?
[Hook]
This is how a gangsta sing the star spangled banner
Pledge allegiance to the flag in a hardcore manner
Blue bandana, clip, banana
That nigga leaking, what the fuck you do, blood?
Red bandana, clip, banana
Big flashin’ ya clip, what the fuck you do, blood?
[Verse]
It’s the return of that gangsta gully shit
Black Northface, braids up under my black skully, bitch
I still feel chills when the narcs come
My little homie scrap with the .40
We come around there and spark something
Let off half a clip, make ya whip lean
You rock petty nigga shells
It hit ya make ya softer than whipped cream
Funny, things are never how shit seems
You going H.A.M., we like damn, we don’t really want it, man
Then pop right up on you, gun in hand
This southside, muthafuckas get smoked here
We’ll see if ya still tough when the smoke clears
We at the hospital waiting to see the folks yeah
What up, Blood? (What?)
What up, Cuz? (What?)
What up, Blood? (What?)
What up, gangsta?
What up, Blood? (What?)
What up, Cuz? (What?)
What up, Blood? (What?)
What up, gangsta?
[Hook]
This is how a gangsta sing the star spangled banner
Pledge allegiance to the flag in a hardcore manner
Blue bandana, clip, banana
That nigga leaking, what the fuck you do, blood?
Red bandana, clip, banana
Big flashin’ ya clip, what the fuck you do, blood?
[Verse]
It’s the return of that gangsta gully shit
Black Northface, braids up under my black skully, bitch
I still feel chills when the narcs come
My little homie scrap with the .40
We come around there and spark something
Let off half a clip, make ya whip lean
You rock petty nigga shells
It hit ya make ya softer than whipped cream
Funny, things are never how shit seems
You going H.A.M., we like damn, we don’t really want it, man
Then pop right up on you, gun in hand
This southside, muthafuckas get smoked here
We’ll see if ya still tough when the smoke clears
We at the hospital waiting to see the folks yeah
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