Lyrics:
diamonds on my chest
I got ice dripping my head
I got ice on my patek
Glock by my chest when I run around
I got homies on the side who can come around
I got
moves monumental it was me three mamis E-40 and Pac at the La Manz Round After Party it just don't stop
Hey Girl, I can tell you want it by the way you
myself
By trying not to die
Just want to feel colors
I seek no reason why
I'm fine all on my own
I'm fine all on my own
Don't bother checking in
And please
Oh, It's just another thing to me
Another day on the grind for a couple cents
I kiss goodbye to my benefits
Work throws stone while I ride
as a joke if you gon fuck with my funds
Just a reminder homie I got weight in the drum
So if you fuck around your last day will come
I'm on my 007 shit I
(50 cent)
I'm her favorite wrong
Nothin' about us right
(Let's go to baby Kayla's world)
& have a nice night
Common sense would tell you leave me alone
(50 cent)
I'm her favorite wrong
Nothin' about us right
(lets go to baby Kayla's world)
& have a nice night
Common sense would tell you leave me alone
buggin u just settling
Devil at my door ima fuck around and let em in
Put that bitch on ice cuz she was froze now I won't let her in
I was starving just
dope
You fin' to lose when dope
Fiends cut ya fuckin throat
You see my shit is legit, so it's on
Cut a fifty cent slab
And tell that bitch to get gone
To be the greatest ever at this flow
I do this in real life
And never just for the show
I stay on point at all times
And never played by a hoe
Grinding so
livin'[00:15.51]High ambitions, you'll never catch me slippin'[00:18.50]Nigga fuck a shirt, chain around my neck[00:21.54]She a piece of work, but she never seen me
thots you met at Playhouse
(I didn't say that)
I just rode by nigga, you wasn't at Dre house
Parked my shit at Ye house and hopped in the uber
Jayceon
Houston Rockets yea
Like James
No Harden
Steps to lane please get up off me (And1)
So much to say so much to do
I'm 50 Cent look at me I'm bullet proof
I
Lost in two AM thoughts, fuck you thought about?
Fuckin a lot, and Jack in the box, them 50 cent tacos would
Hit right now, I'm lit than a bitch
was cunning
Just got a pad out in London
I keep stackin' my money, I need a ladder by summer
AK shots, niggas duckin' stray shots
Been a Top Dawg,
like I'm 50
Half of y'all don't make no sense or no cents
And I just got my license so now I need rims and a tint
(Skrrt)
Asking her what she be pissed
can get you killed with just one call
Pretty bitches, want to fuck 'em all
I feel like Wayne, I relate to dawg
My role model was 50 Cent, I need
is going
Down by 20 per cent every year i just
Talked to the superintendent, met
With Michael Sacks, that’s Ron's
Right hand man so
I think it's
Ricky Bobby, I be cruisin'
I just did a song with 50 Cent, don't give a fuck about him nigga, two-some
Overseas, talkin' guapanese, twisting lids with
a quail-o then I lay low
Inside a mansion, Nokay-do
50 cents Fake-o Bay-bro
No see's in my lie
I need weed to get high
I need cheese to get by
After
the same old shhhh
And while ya high you don't truly know why
You spent your cash so that you can buy
Some herb (word) and some Old E (yeah)
A fifty cent
the same old shhhh
And while ya high you don't truly know why
You spent your cash so that you can buy
Some herb (word) and some Old E (yeah)
A fifty cent
throne
I done made least a 50 off each of my phones
Snakes just something I do not condone
Cut the head off and he dead he gone
She love my aroma Versace
a second time to photobomb it
I live by a code of demonic, Illuminati, Obama, Hovanomics
Hold up, hurdles in life, I hop in a Turbo and roll around 'em
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