Lyrics:
baby
Uh, come on y'all
It's still y'all same old dawg
Surviving Sickle Cell like bullets to the jaw
Fifty Cent power, for this shit I should get paid by
through your windows or your door
Grab it by the tail
Yucca man
Yucca man
If I had a dollar--cut it in two--give you fifty cents
But the rock will
wife dig me
Game try and hit me
Kick game like 50 cent
Niggas wanna play games I quickly
Mob with a squad that will bang y'all wit' me
And they want
Myself
D12
50 Cent
Obie Trice
Stat Quo
And I would also like to introduce
The two newest members of the family
One goes by the name of Bobby Creek
good baby I'll be home in a week."
Pinchin' myself just to see if I'm dreaming,
Call up my team and meet me by the docks in Miami,
I fly out this
the nuisance
I been cutting loose ends
I don't got the time baby
I don't need your two cents
I wonder what it's like
To live what I been dreaming of
I bet it
gone be alright
We gone be all fine
I just wanna ride
Team all by my side
To many tears I cried
Stay strong I gots to fight
Dreaming of stage lights
by the Swiss
Worn by the rich, with that shit you can sniff
Got not time to play 'round, it's way too much in my mix
I'm talking dollars and cents
plans, and it really hurts
Every time I go fishin' it'd always start me wishin'
That I could be a child again
Take my 50 cents and go down to the local
Yeah! 50 Cent, Lloyd Banks, Young Buck
G G G G G-Unit! Haha!
Vacate your home I come to brake your bones
Americas nightmare we at it again
envy
You say you got money nigga really
I bring them racks in by the plenty
You broke as fuck don't got a penny
Don't need yo two cents
You wasn't
they get is 50 cent franks
And papayas, from the village to the tele
Time to kill it on your belly no question
I got more black chicks between my
(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
they get is 50 cent franks
And papayas, from the village to the tele
Time to kill it on your belly no question
I got more black chicks between my
paying him a dollar an hour
And they was paying me fifty cent
They said, "if you was white, should be all right"
"If you was brown, stick around"
body's stiff
By the same niggas you used to party with
Hands up shorty when you party with me, we goin' way past quarter to three (I said Hands Up!)
to the grave where you noticed I was gay uh huh, uh huh
An ice cream truck
Drives my way by
Popsickle sticks for 50 cents man
My mouth is blue
I lost my keys
and drugs filling cereal bowls
A fleet of limousines idle lined in the lot
A penthouse with a helipad, a 50-foot yacht
A mansion in the Hamptons
Haaaaaa
(SYN shit n****)
Yeaaaa
(93Meexhie)
The underdog N****
(Fuck yo producer my beat is by Meexhie)
YeeeeaHH
The Money, The Ice, The Shine,
rap songs
And I ain't blaming 50 Cent, I can't blame T.I.P or JEEZY
Them brothers just making plenty paper off their life stories
See me, myself, I try
but I can't forget
When i was asking for them dollars it was barely 50 cent
Names on the list
But I ain’t owe you shit
Never did favors
It leads
the automatic
Paper towels in the public restrooms
But that's me I guess
So I been low riding while bumping 50
50 times a day &
Spending 50 cents on a bummy drink
I'm Snapping
Going hard no kap'n
Getting it by any means is what
We call trappin'
No middle man I am the Manufacture
Spilt it fifty fifty then own
a hundred, you a dub (nothin')
Lookin' for me, I'm booked up (where you at?)
50 Cent, I'm in the club (hey)
Diamonds on my earlobe, ice on dyke (huh?)
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