Lyrics:
it for that strip club owner named Jack
Guitar Slim going down slow
Play it for me and for Marilyn Monroe
Play, "Please Don't Let Me Be
they math
Bitches ain't half cut up crack up in the stash
50 Cent Italian, icy flow
This is that Run-and-Get-a-Dollar-for-The-Ice-Cream-Cone
Cause they
'bout that!
Want to tell that D's yeah, I doubt that!
I put the barrel in tha 5th in ya mouth
Jack! 50 Cent!
I said I'm 'bout it, 'bout
It! - I'm
platinum hits
And the two dog groan, 50 gat to the dome
That nigga on the mic str-8 gone
Baby, don't trip, it's King Tee with the gangsta shit
Ain't
the mix and all that shit)
Knamsayin, word up (Make it make it a record real quick, do yo' thang)
Throw ya seatbelts on, ahhight?
(Yeah, hook it up,
lock that ain't locked
When no one's around
I sing
Trailers for sale or rent
Rooms to let, fifty cents
No phone, no pool, no pets
I ain't got
(yeah)
Yeah, don't make me hit you with that bow
Help, I've fallen, I can't get up
I live in dark, get rich or die tryin'
Like 50 Cent, minute man
that bitch, then pulled off with her friend (skrrt)
"How he get that?" Shh, just know we got it in (brrt)
Gave my partner fifty cent, he shot many men
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
I need yo two cents and what you thinking
I need yo two cents when we linking
You got a beautiful mind so tell me what is that's desyncing
Need
the house they're like, "Oh no"
50 got 'em locin' again, they open again
Got 'em sippin' on that juice and gin
You could find me in the background burnin'
the house they're like, "Oh no"
50 got 'em locin' again, they open again
Got 'em sippin' on that juice and gin
You could find me in the background burnin'
(It's MJL ho)
Fifty, fifty, fifty, you get
Fifty, fifty, fifty, you get
Fifty, fifty, fifty, he get
Fifty, fifty, fifty
Fuckin' wit me, that's
fifty-cent lovin' round here
round here [x5]
fifty-cent lovin round here
You can tell me that you're sorry til you face turns blue
Oughta go out with your
[H] Yeah
[50] Yeah
[H] It's real, it's real
[50] Yeah
[H] Got 'em
[Chorus: 50 Cent]
Bump that - niggaz try to stunt on my clique
Then when I get
niggas mentally, makes them wanna mention me
And see me doing a quarter century in the penitentiary
Nastradamus predicted 50's the future, that's a fact
holding me down
They like to play my sh!t loud
My shit LOUD, my shit LOUD
Like chicken soup for the soul
I'm here to fill up that hole
Build a mold & some
Doublin' dribbles
The shit's crazy... and that's on gang, bitch
(Uh)
Every time these niggas try to play us
It prolly count as a stream
(Count as a stream,
questions bro
You know how this shit gon' go
My lawyer gon' play his role
That's what the fuck I pay him for
All my killers trained to go
All I gotta say is
[50 Cent Intro]
Yeah, She like it she love it, she kiss it she suck it, she want me to want it, She want to climb up on it,
Smile (Ha, ha)â?¦Lloyd
outside, but bitch, I'm sweatin', active off a Perc'
Forty-five plus fifty-five, that's me, like add me up, you nerd
Paid Habibi forty-six, don't even ask
this shit I rap in this studio
I live this shit no cap
Yea I gotta degree but I be in these streets selling gas by the pound and I Rap
Fuck that
state's forty cents
in New York City fifty cents elsewhere
It makes no goddamn sense at all
America's oldest continuously published daily piece of bullshit
Purple Rain, baby, stupid
Reproduced and directed by 50 Cent
Starring Curtis ''50 cent'' Jackson
Clifton Powell, Treach, Gabriel Casseus
Sasha
Delvalle,
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