50 Cent My Toy Soldier Lyrics

You ready? OK let me wind you up
Do it exactly the way I say do it
Man, these *****s are *****, you heard me?
Get up nice and close (yeah!)

[Chorus: 50 cent]
I put that battery in his back
I'm the reason why he move like that
That's my **********ing toy Soldier
I tell him pop that gat, he goin' pop that gat
You don't want to play wit my Toy Soldier
I say it's on, then it's on
Until ya life is over, ****ing wit my Toy Soldier
If he's a casualty in war, trust me I got more
You don't want it wit my Toy Soldier

This is so close, now follow instructions
Catch a ***** slipping, run up on him and buck him
I ain't got no conscience, them whores are nothin'
They ain't wit us, they against us, We supposed to touch em
Here's what to do if you see him approach me,
Pop that *****, "I don't care if you know me.
Half the *****s hating on me used to be homies
I don't trust em when they smile or when they frown, cause they foney
Every time I come around they call the police on me
That's why the D's in the precinct know me
They know 'bout my rap ****, they know bout how I clap people
I'm like I'm in a track meet, swift wit the mack , be
You could see the envy in they eyes for sure man
Mad as a ************ that I'm holding
See me in the back of the Phantom Rollin
Quick to make examples outta *****s fa sho man
Hold me down


Shoot, Stab, Kill mu****a
You ain't bout it I don't want ya around, **********
Every word out my mouth is felt
That ? I pop, the hollows so hot, yo *** will melt
Barber razor in the club, stunt n I'll give you a ??? stich,
Gored, ya head all taped up
*****s know how I get down, see they know when I'm around
Haha, my soldiers around in this,
Some **** go down, and a ***** get laid down
Its no surprise cause *****s know how I get down
Black tint on the Testarossa,
Hammer out the holster, gat in my lap in case you gotta get clapped
You monkey *****s swing through my hood, we on that gorilla ****
You clap off and miss, we come back and start killing ****
Catch us on the corner wearing black chinchilla ****
We organize discipline, plus we militant


I'm in that coupe phantom, and the bodies kitted
Waves in my head, looking like tsunamis hit it
*****s scheme, the infrared beam's on the mac
I put green on yo head like an Oakland A's hat
My boy was a dolja, now he a soulja
My lil' son ? letting off the rugger
In a whip mashed up, looking for his enemies
Riding and gassed up off double D batteries
Mass casualties, is hooked to them IV's
50 gimme the word, that's when I squeeze
Click clack, take that, fall back, its a contract
50 grand, and 50 man


Written by: Curtis James Jackson, Luis Edgardo Resto, Marshall B. Iii Mathers, Marvin Bernard, Steven Lee King
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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