Lyrics:
I'm drunk, I'm high, damn near gettin' by
I'm drunk, I'm high, damn near gettin' by
I'm drunk, I'm high, damn near gettin' by
Yeah I'm drunk, I'm
lien on my Mama for a cent
I get new bitches every single day
Fuck their ass they living gay
Popping shit by time I play
I smoke alone, I'm getting pay
this 50 Cent ain't cuttin' it I'm like a prophet with a staff and I get profit with my staff you know I get up on these tracks with a loco motive I keep
lame
He needed a change, so I gave him fifty cent
He looked up at me like I was crazy
I said listen man i rather give you my last
To see you live again
Hit the amoco for a 50 cent swisher
Nine fifty left I hit my Patna 4 a blizzal
Uncle 2 cuppin but he drinking liquor
Hit the 4 door creepin listening
Yeah, check it
Yo yeah I smoke weed now I don't give a fuck
And I also tote guns in case my dram pop up
It's crew love I spit two at every few
Yo yo
I need no introduction everybody
Heard of 50 Cent and heard of G-Unit
I'm not high tech and I'm not qualy
You see me in the club
You
the weapon-try as I bomb atomically
Stagnant they stood surrounded and astounded
By this total square mileage of violence that I brung
I've not yet begun
drinks, get laugh, get talk, get long
Got Pink, got hash, got smoke, got blunts
Rhinestones spiffy, she's more than pretty
Lovin' my thuggin', rubbin'
on the corner, gonna see to that
Some like to smoke and some like to blow
Some are even strung out on a fifty dollar Jones
Some are trying to ditch reality by
talking 50 cent neither, haha
I came back a rich nigga
Young mogul, Bo Jackson, I'm a switch hitter
They want me face down on the pavement
Gang
tell by my lips
I smoke 'dro in the booth you can tell by my hits
I loves to get high like I'm touching the sky
Multiply with this weed you can look in
started this run five days ago
Surrounded by nothing but open valley
Lost and lonely on Highway 50
I won't smoke or drink tonight
I know in my head I'll
I give drugs to the thugs price-free
Handed down the game by that nigga Ice-T
No doubt players like me
Recognize the great King Tee, about twenty
ain't good for trial
Pull up to the projects and throw the kids 100's
Drop top Phantom got him sick in his stomach
[50 Cent]
Nigga this Boo-Boo
But
(Da-dum, ba-dum, ba-da-do-da)
I'm gonna pop some tags
Only got twenty dollars in my pocket
I'm, I'm, I'm huntin', lookin' for a come up
This is fucking
This is where we buried the bodies
And you're next bruv!
Hidden away
Where the vines fold you into the dirt
Rot and decay
Your flesh engulfed by
of old ghosts, that ain't even here
Like Alex Haley take notes on this Biography
My family tree consists of street refugees
A ghetto land, where we talk
But I'm down by law and I know my way around
Too much, too many people, too much (aha-ha)
Too much, too many people, too much, Raaah!
A castle
50 Cent
Ciara
I'm focused, man (Darkchild)
You should know this, man
Just one dose of me will have you addicted
To know me is to love me, I
ball killin' shit
Realist shit and your main wife dig me
Game try and hit me
Kick game like 50 cent
Niggas wanna play games I quickly
Mob with
piff
Now we lifty, MC dread head, split up and smoke swiftly
Then if we empty the safe we can all catch fifty
Vanna piece put eighty five in jewelry
dough, no ray me
Fifty deep in VIP, T.G.O.D
Your bitch remind me of this ink, she all on me
I'm gone, I'm rocking KK cologne
I think this bitch just tryna
caretaker, this creator
Servicing purpose to other creators
Rhymers and beat makers
Blessed by the internet
So I'mma start this war of art
Before they rip
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