Lyrics:
young niggas about to spend
They know I throw loco when it's about my Benjamin
Feelin' just like 50 Cent, hated by so many men
Woke up like a bank
Master P (Cube)
I'm ready
(Ay yo P What's crackin' nigga?)
I'm tryin' to get my roll on Cube.
(So where we headed?)
The Player's Club fool. You 'Bout
face lifts
R.I.P. Pluto, me and him on a space ship
Told Bentley to put me on the waitlist
I just copped me a chop', but that Nina my fragrance
Roc
I do pay for something, you know what I'm on
[Chorus]
[Nelly]
I get a hundred-fifty thou' to make the crowd go (HO!)
I might fly by you in
when you bounce, bounce (this is sponsored by the Goodfellas)
Oh, oh
U-S
H-E-R
R-A-Y-M
O-N-D
Skateboard P
And the J to the A the Y to the Z
o'clock (woo!)
Hungry 'bout to hit the IHOP (let's go)
After that, menage-a-trois
And he out by seven o'clock (p-YOON)
'Cause I'm a baller, thought I
the harpoon
Take her to the V.I.P, this is our room
Now you know that it's a shame
'Cause you in your PJs watching cartoons
As I walk down the street
fifty shots so you gone need a few more folks here
You know thats my pussy i got keys and i keep clothes here
Call this my lil duck off i smoke p's and i
[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
usually not good
Cause I freeze with my hands on a hot hood.
And getting' jacked by the you-know-who.
When in a black and white the capacity is two.
see y'all) yeah
Ya Mean? Ya Mean?
Ya Mean? Ay, ay
You see my pants sag low
I'm smokin' on the dro
You can tell by the swag
That the young'n gettin'
Man Dad (records)
I'm afraid, y'all going mad (vic mensa)
Stinky feet gon' be all you have (disgusting)
Your impact muffled like the verse by Nav
'm shittin' on em, I smell like a winner
Don't hit the bathroom for like forty, forty-five minutes
Redman and we up in this bitch, huh
I never cruise, I work
daddy's out of town so uhh, you can fuck around
It's okay to check in that Motel 6
$59.95, not a cent more for that dirty-ass hoe
Yeah, stop by that
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
Hot 97 blazing hip hop and R&B you now
Tuned into G-Unit radio 50 Cent, Lloyd Banks
Tony Yayo
It's like everywhere I look
And everywhere I go
I
like this, uh
Money, money, all I need, all I want (yeah)
Take it from me, leave you stank, smell the funk (you stink, yeah)
Money, money, all they
(yeah)
Yeah, don't make me hit you with that bow
Help, I've fallen, I can't get up
I live in dark, get rich or die tryin'
Like 50 Cent, minute man
French frames in dreams
At the city I can't escape
50 Cent, Darkchild, So Plush
Girl, I wait for your lovin'
There is no rush, what
That's how Darkchild
goin' again
First Z got murked, then Roy got murked
And homie still in the hood, why he ain't gettin' hurt?
I smell somethin' fishy, man, it might be
don't follow the rules
Why should I when Reebok giving niggas they own shoes
And I'm dealing with the same problems 50 Cent got
Yayo in jail and they
strapped, I'll fuck her
From the back
I get my currency in stacks, California's
Where I'm at - right?
Passed by while these niggas wonder why
I got shot but
by the end of the year
And I still gotta deal with the 5-0
And I stopped sellin' dope in 9-0
But if I came to it
I probably still do it
Put
he made the rims poke
Trust me they can't touch P, in one touchie
Turn drop-head coupe to dune-buggy
Admire the verses, their inspired by
.jpg "Smell The Roses")
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