Lyrics:
roll
Sixty in the tank lets go
A nigga feel lit lets float
Always been surrounded by goats
I'm Curry by 30 I'm the goat
Sixty in the tank lets go
A nigga
the genres are mismatch
People lookin' in, like I'm livin' in a fish tank
You' got opinions, you know where to stick that
Go fill a tortilla with crap
Keep
told me she fell in love with my persona
I feel like Mary, don't want no more drama
I can't get in tune with that trash
I had to Louis my bags, you
shawty I'm fine by myself
Bitch
Heartbreak you put my heart in a shark tank
I was falling in and out of love but fuck it
It just make my heart ache
forty and still sag
Teenagers act more mature, Jack
F- you gonna say to me?
I leave on my own terms, I'm going berzerk
My nerves are bad, but I love
blew, never turned back
Turned forty and still sag
Teenagers act more fucking mature, Jack
Fuck you gonna say to me?
I leave on my own terms, asshole,
without havin’ five
I laugh and smile I’m still in love with myself
The world deserts me and then there’s nobody else
I’m swimmin’ on the finish line like
my foreign car, got the trunk by the engine (engine)
So when I back back (back)
I'm frontin' on you niggas (frontin')
Yeah, I love them strippers
my foreign car, got the trunk by the engine (engine)
So when I back back (back)
I'm frontin' on you niggas (frontin')
Yeah, I love them strippers
love you nigga
She just used to you nigga, oh boy
I can't tell but I need to know just how you feel
I can't hold it inside I've got my pride so tell me
a rope I wanna hang mine
But when a wolf cry, still see its fangs right
I use to rock them wife beaters, even though that tank tight
Then I rocked no
fours
Still fuck with me at day hundred
Cause I don't play, I gets off
Piss off, bitch, you ain't lit
You just a nigga saying shit
Rappers burn out,
On & on & on
On on
On & on
The pain still lingers
On & on & on
Always by your side
We was besties (besties)
I was doin right
Till you left me
Took the keys to my heart
Now I can't
Down South, hustler, former weight smuggler
I'm Mother, of the Tank, gave birth to an army
Guerrilla millionaires, so don't even ask, if you wanna
Get
nigga (haha, haha)
You gotta love it, New York City (haha)
[ Chorus - 50 Cent singing ]
I been doin' my own thang
You can tell by the stones on my neck,
What's the color of hatred people?
You all have different colors but we agree on red being the love's one
We fall for a dose of shock from a plug
Askin'
my verses
Can't say yet that I'm satisfied
And I won't show boys no mercy
I'll draw you closed like curtains
Too clean, I tuck my shirt in
Love me
shit
Ya know this is for you you hear me?
Show me love
When you see me on the TV show me love
On the video
I got a tank around my chest
Pull up
Big Glock
Put it on ahead with jet tank
.45 On me
You know I run em down with the big tank
Coca-ina
Weigh it on the scale with the think tank
on the mattress
Emotions rise, slow jams are banging on the tracklist
A year of love goes by, eyes turn to fire eyes
You think, why did I fall in love with her
Oh, Oh, Oh gGGG G-Unit
Yeah it's 50 Cent
And Lloyd Banks and Tony Yayo
Nigga (ha, ha) you got to love it
New York City
I've been doing my own thing
and told you to sit and twirl
Sold a billion tapes and still screamed, "Fuck the world!"
(I'm Slim Shady) so come and kill me while my name's hot
Hundred bottles in the club, our goal nigga
I be with the third stone cold killers
Say you know that plug, I'm like so nigga
Still got them drugs in
the chain's platinum
But I'm still hood
And still posted on the block
I wish a nigga would
Ride by and give my chain a hard look
Tryin' to take mines
Fuck
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