Lyrics:
(Ugh)
(Yeah, Look)
I pop many tags, remember when we popped up out that mini van
They all wishing death on me but bitch I am not 50 cent
Many men
my man is the leg then I'm good with the toes
We peaceful not feeble take people from evil
They call us the body (Body)
50 100 1,000 We coming we
pull a fast one
Fifty cent flashin they hate us wit a passion
Mashin, still fresh in three-day old fashion
Your plaid, I'm stripes, together we be
about good cardio
Spend a hundred fifty cent mint coin like I'm Mario
Never had to worry bout insurance
But you know I got endurance
But our situations
sit up in this
Bitch and not eat he was like
"I don't give a fuck what
You're mad about, we cooking no matter
What, nigga come on man, let's eat!"
dippin'
Un-forgiven by so many men who wish to 50 Cent him
Talkin' bout how is he still shittin'?
Thought by now he would be empty
All this power in my
a ghost
When I ain't tight with my God, feel like evil always close
See da past through my sin hole
shattered glass in the window
The battles I lost, added
wanna fuck me
Baby this just ain't right
All you do is hurt me
Make me feel lonely
You just take away my time
No longer holding
To your evil sorcery
Fuck
gettin' rings like Sonic
On the hang glide damn I'm so damn fly
This swag kill a nigga so hard
I just seen his man die
Stand by, I got bitches
gentleman grew up and turned rude
Looking at them steady hating they mad that my flows crude
Grew up to screw up by ludacris on repeat after school
I had some
was mad that we got hit by Japan
Historians will tell you he provoked that shit
He told lies in attempts to sugar coat that shit
In '45 troops were
back lemme' talk my shit
Rolling up good gas hot box in the minivan
Dolla 50 heaven cent got shottas like many men
And you know how we trappin'
Ain't no
thousand in there (G-Unit radio)
When the drama get to poppin'
It don't bother me, it don't bother me
(50 cent) when the shell casings get to
Droppin' it
shit and I like to buy shit
Shit, I'm gettin' stupid money, what else we gon' do with money?
Bitch, we be ballin' out, the king, bring me fifty bottles
But they didn't give a damn, cause the game had them evil
Now this shit is gettin' outta hand It's 1993, and here come the fuckin' law, man
Now it's
[Chorus]
They mad at me
Check got Os, diamonds in my chain (they mad at me)
Good got Jordan's, the sun in my Range (they mad at me)
Pass by don't
with my misfits
Deep, on a creep, fifty songs tucked under the prone
Fifty songs tucked under the prone
Yeah man
Sticky weed kickin in, big Ball
glitch
(baow, baow, baow)
50 Cent aka the magic stick (grrah)
All black, one gunman
John Wick, that's a bad man
All black, one gunman john Wick (baow)
All
the coup man cause breakin old habits so hard to do
[Notorious BIG]
Damn it feel good to see people up on it flip 2 keys in 2 weeks n didnt flawlet
my brain
I know is to show these ??? how it supposed to go
50 Cent
I'll teach ya how to Stunt
The Game
Countdown to Armageddon Motherfucker, Chuck Taylor in
really understands till you're by yourself
When u be crying yourself to sleep, the sheets, the weed, ,no tips each week
Man that's just so depressed
Don't
shot him
In the chest, I roll with two stacks of Tecs
And mad niggas in sets that'll roll up in your rest
Uh! Mister Fantastic's crafted off that 50
ignorant just like 50 Cent with his post
Niggas posting all online
So when you slide you under arrest
That nigga corny he a bitch
That nigga telling on his
gone low
Or gone by sundown, they're dodging 5-0
Now as I wander through the city goin' mad
I see the fruits of planting evidence instead of grass
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