50 Cent – Heat

Internationally recognized American rapper and songwriter, 50 Cent returns with another masterpiece titled “Heat”.

This intriguing record which appeared as Track 07 on his top charting album project called “Get Rich or Die Tryin” was officially released on 6 February 2003.

We would like you to add this undeniable hit song to your playlist, you won’t regret it yuh.

Listen up below!.

DOWNLOAD 50 Cent Heat MP3

LYRICS

Aye, you want some of this shit?

Naw, 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! Whoa! Slow down, slow down, slow down! You see that brick house right there? That’s the nigga’s crib. When he come out you gotta tighten his ass up. Imma get in the other car. Aight

If there’s beef cock it and dump it

The drama really means nothing to me

I’ll ride by and blow ya 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

I do what I gotta do, I don’t care I if get caught

The DA can play this motherfucking tape in court

I’ll kill you

I ain’t playing, hear what I’m saying, homie, I ain’t playing

Catch you slipping I’ma kill you

I ain’t playing, hear what I’m saying, homie I ain’t playing

Keep thinking I’m candy ’til ya fucking skull get popped

And ya brain hop out the top like Jack-in-the-box

In the hood summer time is the killing season

It’s hot out this bitch, that’s a good enough reason

I’ve seen gangstas get religious when they start bleeding

Saying “Lord, Jesus help me” ’cause they ass leaking

When they window roll down and that A.K. come out

You can squeeze ya little handgun ’til you run out

And you can run for ya backup

But them machine gun shells gon tear ya back up

God’s on ya 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 ya fucked

I get the drop, if you can duck ya luckier than Lady Luck

Look, nigga, don’t think you safe ’cause you moved out the hood

‘Cause ya mama still around, dawg, and that ain’t good

If you was smart you’d be shook of me

‘Cause I get tired of looking for ya

Spray ya mama crib and let yo ass look for me

If there’s beef cock it and dump it

The drama really means nothing to me

I’ll ride by and blow ya 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

I do what I gotta do, I don’t care I if get caught

The DA can play this motherfucking tape in court

I’ll kill you

I ain’t playing, hear what I’m saying, homie, I ain’t playing

Catch you slipping I’ma kill you

I ain’t playing, hear what I’m saying, homie I ain’t playing

My heart bleeds for you, nigga, I can’t wait to get to you

Behind that twinkle in ya eyes, I can see the bitch in you

Nigga, you know the streets talk

So they’ll be no white flags and no peace talks

I got my back against the wind

I’m down to ride ’till 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 50 grand you put in the hood

But ya shooter finna get shot, it won’t do him no good

With a pistol I define the definition of pain

If you survive ya 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 streets leaking out they brains

If there’s beef cock it and dump it

The drama really means nothing to me

I’ll ride by and blow ya 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

I do what I gotta do, I don’t care I if get caught

The DA can play this motherfucking tape in court

I’ll kill you

I ain’t playing, hear what I’m saying, homie, I ain’t playing

Catch you slipping I’ma kill you

I ain’t playing, hear what I’m saying, homie I ain’t playing

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)

Yeah, ha ha, aye 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? Ha ha ha ha