Many Men (Wish Death) - 50 Cent

Man we gotta go get something to eat man

I’m hungry as a motherfucker

Ay yo man, damn what’s taking homie so long son?

50, calm down, here he come

Ahh, ohh, what the fuck?!

Ahh!

son, pull up!

pull up!

Many men, wish death upon me Blood in my eye dawg and I can’t see

I’m trying to be what I’m destined to be And niggaz trying to take my life away

I put a hole in nigga for fucking with me My back on the wall, now you gon’see

Better watch how you talk, when you talk about me Cause I’ll come and take your life away

Many men, many, many, many, many men

Wish death 'pon me Lord I don’t cry no more

Don’t look to the sky no more

Have mercy on me Now these pussy niggaz putting money on my head

Go on and get your refund motherfucker, I ain’t dead

I’m the diamond in the dirt, that ain’t been found

I’m the underground king and I ain’t been crowned

When I rhyme, something special happen every time

I’m the greatest, something like Ali in his prime

I walk the block with the bundles

I’ve been knocked on the humble

Swing the ox when I rumble

Show your ass what my gun do Got a temper nigga, go’head, lose your head

Turn your back on me, get clapped and lose your legs

I walk around gun on waist, chip on my shoulder

Till I bust a clip in your face, pussy, this beef ain’t over

Many men, many, many, many, many men

Wish death 'pon me Lord I don’t cry no more

Don’t look to the sky no more

Have mercy on me Have mercy on my soul

Somewhere my heart turned cold

Have mercy on many men

Many, many, many, many men

Wish death upon me Some days wouldn’t be special, if it wasn’t for rain

Joy wouldn’t feel so good, if it wasn’t for pain

Death gotta be easy, 'cause life is hard

It’ll leave you physically, mentally, and emotionally scarred

This if for my niggaz on the block, twisting trees and cigars

For the niggaz on lock, doing life behind bars

I don’t see only god can judge me, 'cause I see things clear

Quick these crackers will give my black ass a hundred years

I’m like Paulie in Goodfellas, you can call me the Don

Like Malcolm by any means, with my gun in my palm

Slim switched sides on me, let niggaz ride on me

I thought we was cool, why you want me to die homie?

Every night I talk to god, but he don’t say nothing back

I know he protecting me, but I still stay with my gat

In my nightmares, niggaz keep pulling techs on me Psych says some bitch dumb, put a hex on me The feds didn’t know much, when Pac got shot

I got a kite from the pens that told me, Tuck got knocked

I ain’t gonna spell it out for you motherfuckers all the time

Are you illiterate nigga?

You can’t read between the lines

In the bible it says, what goes around, comes around

Almost shot me, three weeks later he got shot down

Now it’s clear that I’m here, for a real reason

'Cause he got hit like I got hit, but he ain’t fucking breathing