Song parody of

Gotta Make It to Heaven

by 50 Cent

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[Chorus] I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell Gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven [50 Cent] Some say I'm paranoid I say I'm careful how I choose my friends Been to ICU once I ain't going again First Zee got murked, then Raw got murked An homies still in the hood, why he ain't getting hurt I smell somethin' fishy man it might be a rat Damn niggas switching sides on niggas just like that You know me, I stay wit a bitch on her knees An get guns away in the hood like government cheese Spray on Suzuki's eleven hundred cc's More plate on the back, straight squeezing a Mak In the hood they identify niggas by they cars So I switch up whips to stay off the radar I ain't gotta be around to make shit hot I send Yayo to dump 30 shots on ya block So spray that Tec nigga if I say get it done An make it wet niggas if you round me son [Chorus: x2] [50 Cent] When I come through the hood, I don't stop the rapping niggaz Get close enough to smack, get it clapping nigga Pac tried to front so I waved the chrome on his ass Point blank range I span put a bone on his ass Two weeks later niggas came through with Maks to lay me down Then sprayed I played dead and got the fuck off the ground Out the blue I get a phone call, 50 what up? You send a bitch at me I send the bitch back cut up I don't play that pussy shit, I done told you boy Front on me, you gon meet one of my soldiers boy Cause Entwain shot up his mamma crib an now he in Jail Trippin on Fliks an bogger trail, pussy in black tail Pack mamma moved, but she don't talk to him no more The shells from twains 4-4, blew the hinge off her do' Without that Tec every month how she gon pay for the crib Man social service finis' come and take them kids [Chorus: x2] [50 Cent] Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change, the courage To change the things I can, but wisdom to know the difference But A, Ade did a make you say that I say that That's the credit put in your head when you a case act Man I might talk to you while we up in the Penz But when we come home, that don't mean we goin' fuck an be friends Shells smash ya head close enough to hear 'em whistling Thank god they missed you, an go grab ya pistol In the hood niggas running round acting crazy Buying little air Jordan's for maybe babies See it might be his, an it might be yours Cause them broads in the projects is straight up whores Man it don't take much for you to get in them draws You ain't can have 'em on they back or on all fours You got to tell me, you feeling this shit Because I hear what I'm saying I know I'm killing this shit [Chorus: x2]

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