Lyrics:
weighs eighteen stone
(That's two hundreds fifty six pounds)
I don't mind her fat but,
It's not only that but,
She's cockeyed and muscle-bound, Molly
made
Into brown gravy for supper Sunday
They got 50 pound bags of chicken nuggets
They got yummy yogurt by the bucket.
Shelves and shelves
try me
All they get is 50 cent franks and papayas
From the village to the telly
Time to kill it on your belly no question
Had more black chicks between
Pain is coming soon
What you believe
The darkness In the room
You know that I see
The Crows on the move
Never standing by me
You know we on the move
Bruder, sag ma' ehrlich, wer will keinen dicken Benz?
Veysel schreibt die Hooks besser als 50 Cent
Bruder, sag ma' ehrlich, wer will keinen dicken
we would never get old
Went from loosies and buses, and fifty cent sodas
And Novas to Hondas to Lexus to Rovers
Mad years passed ,still got each
Sparks is white like me"
"Haha" "Hahaha" "One time for that boy
Eminem? You know what I'm
Talking about?! One time for that boy
50 Cent! The whole G Unit!
Buys an eight by twelve four-bit room
I'm a man of means by no means
King of the road
Trailers for sale or rent
Rooms to let, 50 cents
No phone, no pool,
going against 50 Cent
That's a no no y'all know better than that
Flowers blooming, morning dew
And the cats just ain't the same
It's a pleasure when you
move the weight
I got the itis
I’m sick, I’m addicted to the gold
You take a hit of how this feel you want more
Sorta like what crack did to
Boogie
Now, listen...
My paycheck after taxes barely pays the rent
I do the town on Friday, by Tuesday, it's all spent.
Two bucks an hour, this job ain't
critical thoughts, criminal minded
Blinded by illusion, findin it confusin
Duel of the iron mics
It's that fifty-two fatal strikes
Duel of the iron
a livin' off my lifestyle
It's quite foul how you ain't real as what you write down
I'm right now, fifty cal and some white owls
Ain't nothin' like
Ludacris, ya boy was doin' this
Before Snoop Dogg, I put rabbits in the morgue
Before Dr. Dre, I was out in L.A.
Before 50 Cent, I was sittin' on Enz
When
going…
Пау-ха!
Пау-ха!
Е-папором-Е
Английский!!!
Пау-ха!
Пау-ха!
Е-папором-Е
50 cent!!!
arms
Oh God I wish I was home tonight
Send me a naked picture by the U.S. mail
Write a pornographic letter, You know I won't tell
Keep Your legs
hands on some dollars and cents
And fools can't hold us
Every chance we get, we hittin' up the rollers
Comin' up short of the green guys
And I might
change up the topic
Cuz I aint 50 Cent This aint no 21 Questions
I don’t give a damn or understand what you talking
I Told you I aint 50 I ain't lookin for
that's a big black bug,
Got your 50 cent fortune tucked under your rug.
You got your zoot suit body bag ready to blast off.
I'm in a milk crate by your
is bent
Count up every cent
You want money
It get honey
Don't get bitchy
That's suspicious
I wanna do what I wanna do
But ma's rent don't get paid by
and that's a big black bug
Got your 50 cent fortune tucked under your rug
You got your zoot suit body bag ready to blast off
I'm in a milk crate by your
to the motherland
To see what’s mine again
Be of service, land of dark faces
Split, colonized in fifty-three places
The greed went on 'til everything was gone
Wiped
pence at a club thrown by 50 cent
Man exposure can’t fucking pay rent
I live for wealth man y’all live for captions
One knee down America’s captain
But
I'm so lonesome I could cry.
King of the Road
(Roger Miller)
Trailer for sale or rent
Rooms to left fifty cents
No phone, no poolm no pets
I ain't got
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