Lyrics:
track, I'm wrong. Subtract, add on. Friends fade by dawn.
Grow close at dusk. My dear that musk. To work on us, two...two...
HOOK: There's two I's in
teach the kids, you rather have a bullet or a word to your wig
Murder rates increases, bullet holes the size of fifty cent pieces
Don't worry about
the Lac
Never slackin on the back of the track
I'm a fool that's a fact
Then again I ain't having that when
It comes to flowing I'm sick
Bitch, give me 50
die trying
By any means like 50 Cent
Try to rob me he a idiot
Smoke a big nigga on some skinny shit
Hop out the car or stay in that bitch
Either way do
sale, fifty cents a cap
50 Cent got eight caps in his fake ass, and a Maybach
But he rented that, where the dentist at?
Need some whitening toothpaste,
nego foge,esse nego corre
Fuck you Bitch,tô tentando fazer hit
Tipo (50cent)fifty cent fique rico ou morra tentando...
with a 50 in pocket
And nah ain't talking bout no cents
Aye
My young n***** creepin', they lurking (On god)
Hell nah ian buying her no burkin (Hell nah)
on my wrist
Gelato smoke it up
I'm chiefing hella big
If she gon bruk it up
I might just grant her wish
2 cups (drank) put it out
Smoking gas by
(Oh, the wine cooler)
Johnny Ryall is the bum on my stoop
I gave him fifty cents to buy some soup
He knows the time with the fresh Gucci watch
But I'm down by law and I know my way around
Too much, too many people, too much (aha-ha)
Too much, too many people, too much, Raaah!
A castle
face watch how I chew it
Self made self paid so keep yo two cents
Bitch I'm jugging jugging jugging watch me run up a sack on em
In the Stu cooking
to give me a thing
Could've been a fifty cent ring from out of a vending machine
Love unconditionally, there's no other fish in the sea
Guess I'm
track rod saw him limping the last 2km home, and dropping five places on the leader board.
Securing his first podium finish of the season was fellow
Fart 1, Fart 2, Fart 3
They're long streams of pure poetry, formed by as many searchable keywords as possible
This is where the work transcends
Every
Fifty cents to kick it oh it's so wicked
Wu-Tang is Wu York, hell up in the pyramid
Tabernacles catch fire within the apple
Tabernacles catch fire
friends and his so-called bros
He went ghost quick
Power tripping off 50 cent talk is cheap he 100
Ain't cheating on him you was just cheating on yourself
handled homey checks Like a banking eagle
Knew the insides of tax laws And hiding yo dough
Cause my homie kept Increasing every cent in his Flow
He could
bricks
I had a jacob like 50 cent
In '04 got my paper acts in me nigga
I get my grind on house 3 stairs had it for 2 years
Still ain't satisfied that's how
repertoire fifty-two block
Avoidin? hisself from gettin? shot
Skill a kill any deliver
Matinee track prostitution whole money go get her
Collaborate real rap
all snakes
I committed crimes nigga up in broad day
I spit for AZ right up on broadway i spit for 50 cent right up in the hallway
Yea that boy a problem
All y’all pussy and ya know you fake
Gonna talk shit out ya mouth but we like the hate
Yain’t bout nothin gotta scope on the 50k
Gon' kill you
Waldo Jeffers had reached his limit.
It was now Mid-August which meant he had
Been separated from Marsha for more than two months.
Two months,
Waldo Jeffers had reached his limit. It was now Mid-August which meant he had
been separated from Marsha for more than two months. Two months,
us, not me, got 49 cent in my Guess jeans
And my chain is 1 mill' that's 1 mill' more than your deal
I'm so trill [Incomprehensible]
I'm sittin' tall,
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