Problem Child

[Intro: sample & (Jadakiss)] (Load up, hahahahaha) "Why can't you be man enough" (Yeah, where you at, nigga?) "To tell me where, ya comin' from" (Load up nigga, wooo! HA-HAAAEEH!) [Verse 1: Jadakiss] Yo, can't really figure this clown out Where is he from, Jamaica Queens, Cali or down South? I could let a L.A. gun hit him But Grape Street already told me you payin' to run with 'em I could let a New York knife poke him with one of my throw aways But I don't want to see no cops smoke him, uhh Somebody tell Pa we ridin' And get ready to auction off the car he die in (eBay) Whenever we bump heads, since you like havin' people with you Get you a hospital with bunk bed Without Dr. Dre, you would just make slow jams Come up out of that witness protection program Hov' don't really respect you, get in your place If Big was alive, he'd a probably spit in your face Nas been doin' just fine without you (Esco) And Pac probably would've made an album about you So I guess that just leaves me here to get rid of you And Rakim and them, they don't even consider you Em know you ain't got nothin' for Jada And I know he appreciates all the money you made him It's two thousand and five, nobody fights fair I just know an instrumental's your worst nightmare But you tough and you bad, too bad, you mad Probably been in your old hood more than you have Yeah, you sold more records than me But in the streets you gon' always be second to me We was damn near feelin' you Even though your career is based off somebody damn near killin' you Shit you be doing ain't even considered rappin' to us This is probably the best thing that happened to us The best Wanksta, internet gangsta Magazine mobster, shit on your whole roster Get ready to say Hail Marys and Our Father's Get out your black suits and hard bottoms Haha, don't worry, I got him He ain't a problem child, just a child with a problem [Break: sample & (Jadakiss)] "Why can't you be man enough" (We love it, nigga, let's go) "To tell me where, ya comin' from" [Verse 2: Styles P] D-Block, don't think it, nigga Take a piss in your Formula 50, drink it, nigga Get shot out the Reeboks nigga Got shot and ain't shoot none back, you'se a biatch nigga If I would've got shot on grandma's stoop I would've aired out somebody's grandma duke, right!? In the streets they say, "50, who shot ya?" Named three niggas soon as he came out the doctor And you far from a gangsta, nigga You was talkin' 'bout yourself when you made Wanksta, nigga Listen, why work out, cock guns on the DVD Run around with cops from homicide and TNT Nigga you can suck my dick Come around without cops, shit's on, you gon' get touched quick Cause, I was at the VIBE when it jumped off Put fifty grand up, you pussy you ain't even lift a hand up Your man stabbed somethin', police grab somethin' But besides that, I ain't seen nobody man up Shit, what the plot is about? Cause you know that, you don't need a dentist to get shot in the mouth And the hood hate ya shit, but you hot in the south It's the crackers that buy the album, what's the plottin' about? Many men make a wish, but we ain't many men So you gon' get death when we let them semis spit, what? [Outro: Sample] "Why can't you be man enough" "To tell me where, ya comin' from" "Why can't you be man enough" "To tell me where, ya comin' from"