Lyrics:
co chceš, píčo? (co chceš, píčo?) Být tebou nic neříkám (ne)
Cigánský 50 Cent (more), nevím, co přijde zítra
My máme brácho vitamín, tebe se to netýká
shit
To the (?)
50 dollar, hundred dollar bill shit
(?) gold crown on a real nigga wrist
Fresh like my nephew Khalil in this bitch
.40 cal, no
That lil' nigga not my brother, he ain't real
Get your homie, don't really know what's his deal
Boy, a nigga out here tryna make a mill
My life
hope it never slow up
I done came a long way to make it here
Gotta thank God that I made it here (yeah)
Respected by every hood, nigga, throw up
ya coats
Bentley Farnsworth, I'll check him proudly
We got D-Block, Wu-Tang, Jay-Z and Nas
Also performing 50 Cent, Terror Squad
From the top, we have
your head, like I got your ass on record
Tune, don't be so cruel, Tune don't be so rude
Nah, fuck that, fuck these lil niggas, fuck these lil dudes
By
eventually ceases to
Be controlled by a fear of what
Life can bring - James Baldwin
For well over a year 50 Cent
Had been working on what
Was meant to be hist
in Hollywood cause I remember when I had 50 Cent, up In Da Club
All my life I knew I was major, I don't need no major
I don't even write rhymes, I
valet wit' my keys
Let's make a bet for fifty large, who flyer than me? Nobody
I'm a fly boy, I'm a, I'm a fly boy
I'm a fly boy, I'm a, I'm a fly boy
Jumpin' Jumpin'
Jumpin' Jumpin'
Jumpin' Jumpin'
Jumpin' Jumpin'
I get them boys jumping
Keep them boy jumping
High
I get them boys jumping
Keep them
Yeah, Its 50 cent, Young Buck
G-g-g-g-g-G-UNIT!
We get the club jumpin' from beginning to the end
Go shawty, we back up in this bitch again
We
mouth
You should hear how they talk about me
Man 50 f***ed up, I mean real f***ed up
He left us in the hood, we f***ed up
I can't believe this n****
and Twitter with fifty thousand followers
Ain't got no money in real life, but still popping, I just wanna know
I wanna know, if a nigga ain't really putting it
made a play i’m acting brand new ooh damn big rude flexx he big fool ooh
Keep it real dawg nigga keep it straight
Loyalty the only way i operate
Big boy
sick
Many men want see me fall, dawg I feel like 50 Cent
Feel one X fuck up my chest and I had to go repent
Smoke one joint it had me on my ass and I say
where
Blockchain boy
Gotta run it up there
To the point of real wealth
Yeah it's gonna pump there
Doge yeah Doge yeah Doge yeah I'm not talkin' cat
to be rude
But honestly
You fucking up my groove
So I'ma need you to take a few steps back
'Cause I ain't with all that
Baby, for real, for real, for
Beware of these fake gangsters...
But why they fake gangsters..
c penny for ur thoughts naw I aint givin 50 cents to a wanksta...
I'm the assassin
Ahoy
Just like Nabisco it's nothing fake The Real McCoy
D boy d boy yes sir I'm a d boy
Hat tilted arms folded standing in my b boy
I am authentic you
blessings
I ain't got fifty cents for the bitch
I don't ask her twenty-one questions
My nigga's flip yayo
I just put the bucks in the bank
Keep it G with
don't duck, Wednesday, drop 50 on you
So, niggas better chill for shit, get real, and tell everything that we do
Hold up, gang, slide up, it's price for
affi dead a mi nuh give a hoot
Bury Dem and plant a tree Pon top
Tun Dem Ina root
Drum a carry 100
So mi page Dem bout 2:50
By 3 o clock mi shell di
and the jackas wanna kick in my do' (do')
I'm a d-boy, didn't graduate
But I, got a Ph.D from Pimp State
And I, got a Master's Degree in movin' weight
And my,
Boys play it now
When we coming for yo issue wodie lay it down
cause if you don't you done piss me clean off
Ya history dog believe 50 shots gone set it
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