Lyrics:
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
Various calls were made up for awarin' us
The D's in the marked vans and cabs
In our land
Hoodrats get stapped by niggas who forty
Turnin' out young lady's
a play nigga send me my portion
If I politic with him we chopped up bout choneese
Know a nigga who trap jump he sponsored by Jordan
Them fifties
the roof
He landed on Mercer by Versace
Last time they see me I'll
Be shootin' out the Masi
Gucci tearaway suit's, Jesus
Make two bricks out of one
Wipe your
shit, pop that pussy like a zit
I go by the name Lil Tunechi
Your girl is a groupie
And nigga, you's a square
And I will twist you like a Rubix
these niggas acting gangsta
When shit get gangsta, they turn to cops serve my mama, rather she get dope from me
than of the block My father figure was
Ain't Gonna Change
D-Tay:
I Don't Play That Shit
Young Buck:
G-Unit Do Ya' Thang
Young Buck:
Some Say I'm Crazy For Signin With 50 Cent
Them Same
gotta die, I'd rather homicide
I ain't have fifty cent when my grandmama died
Now I'm goin' back to Cali with my Jacob on, see how time fly?
Hate it
nigga, what?)
What you still talking shit for?
Don't you know I got ki's by the three
When I chirp, shawty chirp back
Louie knapsack where I'm
Making somethin' outta nothing
Because everybody fifty cents
From a quarter
Where I come from
Yeah
The streets ain't timid
But I feel at home in it
racks and put coats on them kids backs?
It's thirty degrees outside (Gangsta, Gangsta)
Twenty four, how could I ask for more?
I got my deals, gettin'
lame
He needed a change, so I gave him fifty cent
He looked up at me like I was crazy
I said listen man i rather give you my last
To see you live again
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
the sky tryin' to blast sun
Zero to sixty in a second, pull a fast one
Fifty cent flashin' they hate us with a passion
Mashin', still fresh in three-day
on this shit
('Cause this pain inside)
(It never seems to pass me) see I feel even more trapped
(I said it never seems to pass me by)
Yeah
Where'd we
n black on its on!
Wassup? This the kid 50 Cent man
Its going down, ya heard me?
Niggas got me mad, ya talk
Ya niggas got me all fucked up
I'm finna
fifty sticks to NY
Lil bro he just wanna smoke some shit he dont get high
Switches on the back of all the glicks it can't get by
This shit on my
Shit, cops and robbers niggas be bound to get them dollars and cents
They get in a slump like baseball players when they short on they rent
Anything
I gotta die, I'd rather homicide
I ain't have 50 Cent when my grandmama died
Now I'm goin' back to Cali with my Jacob on
See how time fly?
Hate
real-er
I'm all high, it's late, I'm lookin' down at the fella
Shit's pushed in, ambulance placed him on some cushion
His mom's had a stare I wouldn't
disrespectful
Y'all know I don't care 'bout these niggas
Happy New Year
Tekashi got snatched by the feds, he done
I'm like, "Damn, why they doin' that to 50
it?
That means never on the phone, you got it? Alright)
Live by it, die by it (Gangsta)
Rule number one, never shit where you eat at (never)
Rule
…time to play around, what is this? (humming
Singing) 50 Cent, I got G-Unit
Gather all my thoughts
All the bullshit I experienced is
Coming out right now
that weed-blowin', lean-pourin', real gangsta music
He know I'm familiar with the brick by how my wrist movin'
Throw him in that water, I'm from
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