Lyrics:
Back, back, back, back, and forth
From Ca-li to New York
Introduce Posdonus y'all ('nus y'all)
Sticky like cous-cous y'all (cous y'all)
Be the words
The last one, word to your mother
Brother, listen
I've seen it when he kissed 'em at the way
Made his body shake
The high tide it 8:50 I's smoke tank
Rap
And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in custody down to the station
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder
But
what I deserve, don't I?
Word on the streets is they ain't heard from him, uh
I guess I get what I deserve, don't I?
Talked down on my name, throwed
Knowing my off days are 808s
And old Drum breaks from all them old days
When Fifty Cent was poppin and Eminem was a show king
Consumed by what i became
might get fooled if you come from out of town
But I'm down by law, and I know my way around
Down in the Village, you might think I'm silly
But you
state's forty cents
in New York City fifty cents elsewhere
It makes no goddamn sense at all
America's oldest continuously published daily piece of bullshit
best to be both
But let's be honest a father really helps with your growth
But I was raised by Nas and Jay-Z and Big L and Eminem
All of them set
The words flew from his mouth
And they were gently gathered by reporters
Trying to frame his once infamous flame
With tattered pictures of her daughter
back?
Well our counselor said we could take them by surprise
If we didn't say a word till we looked them in the eyes
We kept real still and we had our
Look, my nigga this is dedication
This is anti-hesitation
This a real nigga celebration
This a Dime Blocc declaration
Fifty-Ninth and Fifth Ave,
the microphone and tear it apart
These words hit
Hit like a fist
Slang from the wrist
I do it for the art
Words from my lips
To a place that exists
On my list
I
above.
Bar full of strangers, fifty-cent beer
God Almighty what am I doin' here
Always end up on the floor when push comes to shove,
Can't pick
truck, whizzin' through borders
I was through flippin' quarters when I made my first mill'
I'm about a dollar, 50 Cent ain't real?
Dead presidents,
to stitch ya
Peep how I use words to paint pictures
Peep how I got niggas with bodies askin' me
For ten cents to got hit ya
Look my name up in the law book
50 Cent Lloyd Banks!
Nobody get hurt if nobody don't move
Just give it up smooth (G-UNIT')
Motherfucker you move I'll flash my tool
And blast my
Straight up, and your haircut game is fucked up
I'm toe-tyin' them niggas, them niggas are dudun-dudun, nigga
Straight up, yo that nigga 50 Cent?
That's
And a brick all these red rubies
If he bigger go pick up a
Stick with a 50 clip and I ain’t 50 cent
Get you killed for like 50 packs
She assuming so she bet her
so allow me, hand me ya coats
Bentley Farnsworth, I'll check him proudly
We got D-Block, Wu-Tang, Jay-Z and Nas
Also performing 50 Cent, Terror
the days
Young strays, posted at the L.Q. on Friday's
Waitin for Dice to give the go ahead
Hawkin 50 cent, puttin heads to bed
for a herringbone hear
til' push you?
You on my arm keep you from harm
Won't break that bond word to my mom
Tell me you love me ell me you swear
And if I need you you gon' be
to vent / and start trolling everybody like I'm 50 cent / Blac Youngsta I don’t talk funny / play the game trying to get that boardwalk money / listen homie
it crunk like the Dirty South
Hold ya mouth, you ain't worth a third of me
A word from me, exclusive as a surgery
But I don't use a scalpel,
the word ballin played out
They brought it back to describe me in that Maybach
Me and Jeezy Jeezy rollin' with our locs on
Smokin' somethin' good fuckin'
_(Cropped).jpg/250px-Eminem_-_Concert_for_Valor_in_Washington,_D.C._Nov._11,_2014_(2)_(Cropped).jpg "Eminem")
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