Lyrics:
All this shit I rap in this studio
I live this shit no Cap
Yea I gotta degree but I be in these streets selling gas by the pound and I Rap
Fuck
a neck
Em, Eminem's tongue control is amazing
Benzino is only a lil hoe
I am dancing and singing
50 knows, no amount of cents he can give me to live in
birth in 1986
She greatly miss
2019, hit the rap game and finally made a hit
She told me come and put a baby in her and she gave me kiss, I saved
When you stop the programs for after school
And they DCFS, some of 'em dyslexic
They favorite 50 Cent song "12 Questions"
We scream, rock, blows,
Curtis Jackson
50
Let’s go
Many men many men
Need to be looking out for me
I’m taking it all
With a grin like the Grinch
If any want rap beef
I’m bringing
Once you call my name out, things will never be the same
They should've never let us get our foot in this game
Ever since I was introduced to rap
our souls. to Satan.
Instead. We KILL him. By the same game he plays' (EM!)
Remember, God. I am NOT. A RAP. GOD. (RAP GOD!)
I'm just trying make half
Livin' dat, yo what's up black?
Well its my third day home and not a cent to my name
No jobs they claim I'm back in the drug game
I need some money in
Go 'head, go 'head, go 'head Game
First things first (Aftermath) The Chronic is back
This is indo, produced by Timbo
Game over; nah the N.W.A. chain
or Lacey
It's 50 Cent and Shady, the worst, baby
You put your hands on my peoples I'll react crazy
Put a hole through your front and your back, maybe
But
Never met em but free red die, I pray them laws change. Bought my way into the rap game and them tell em keep the change.
It's to the point where I
breathe, breathe
I'm in it, potent marijuana running shit like the mayor
Rap game Peter Parker web swinging through the air
My minds in the clouds and I
heavy for the shit they bringing to the table I ain't ready
My two cents worth 100,000 dollars when I talk they see blue strips and the fetty
I wanna fix
by far, my rap repertoire
Be the art of murderin' makin' it hard for you to spar
We can chill and puff the ganja, but don't be mad when the
Funk Doctor
and the finger of a thirty-eight
Dust by far, my rap repertoire
Be the art of murderin' makin' it hard for you to spar
We can chill and puff the ganja, but
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
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
[Intro]
New York City (New York City), you are now rackin' with 50 Cent (with 50 Cent)
Are you ready? (are you ready?) (*gun cocks*) I said are you
[Hook]
I am 100, I double 50 cent
If you wanna talk ish ya derrier gets kicked
Show you who's boss like Feds did Micheal Vick
And show ya how
[50 Cent]
ay , yo we can't stay alive forever,
so if the shit hits tha fan then we might as well die together, im hi as ever, more hoe's and more
quit, suck on a dick, jackass
I'm done with this wack-ass rap, kiss my Black ass!
(Fuck this)
(50 Cent)
Nah, Em, tell them to kiss my Black ass,
of Kanye West and 50 Cent
Dropping on the same day, couldn't wait for our pay day
Me and my boys had a job, we worked the same place (T-Dot)
Worked for
do one more game of counting by fives on our fingers
This is a long one, keep going
Get set, ready, go
5, 10, 15, 20
25, 30, 35, 40
45, 50, 55,
shot just one pinch
But getting shot bitch don't flinch
Not like 50 Cent they got Nine hits
But the killer Six feet deep ditch
Not like 50 tho they got
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