Lyrics:
money then yo day’s done
You tried to talk but couldn’t say somethin’
Walkin’ in yo shoes,
I bet I probably wouldn’t say nothin’
If you was broke you
Nigga the work a 9 say its 10
Scribble on the check whit a pen
Right now im wearing Dior but you know I rock louie linen
50cent glass jaw
Shoot his chin
your boyfriend
Wish we could make this make sense but
You treat love like fifty cents
Why do I keep fallin' for your bullshit
I don't got the gold you
and he tough
If them niggas diss, it ain't really shit to talk about
Why them niggas diss, like we don't sell outside they momma's house
Bro, they playin'
to do you like this
Oh man homey, when the tooley go click, click, click
It's the young high-roller, the talk of New York
David got my neck lookin'
to that
It was Eminem and Backstreet Boys
Fifty Cent in the club bumping New Noise
Linkin Park
And Street Sharks
Red power ranger could you call me Tony
barrel by, too gun shy to hitch a ride
Got two quarters and a dime, cup of coffee costs a buck
Fifty cents to place a call, payphone's ripped right out
50 Cent:
I don't know what u heard about me
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me
No Cadillac, no perms u can't see
That I'm a motherfucking
the fck away from the coke man
Division now, when they talk about the menace
The legacy I leave them make
It worth every minute
Guaranteed by the time that
me confused
I never could lose and never will
Aside from any guy
I slay with swords my dead lords
Are so so many guys i make you cry
Angry bullets from
niggas be the best of friends
And fall out over pussy and wanna dead they man
One of my niggas in the grave the other one in the pen
She fucking my enemies
attention
Cause this game cost time
Make my time make sense
Turn them cents to a dollar
Turn them dollars into 10s
And 10s into 20s
And them 50s even 100s
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
you like this
Oh man homey, when the tooley go click, click, click
It's the young high-roller, the talk of New York
David got my neck lookin' like
wanna pep talk
But if you ever wanna get more
Step back and see how you can step forward
F laws, get money and less war
Press raw, just don't wanna see
how it feels to be judged by pigment
Besides getting it from both sides of the tracks
But I swore I'd get them back
Even if it meant selling my soul
they feelin'
Rap full of good guys, 50 Cent is the villain
I play the bar with 8 bottles all night gettin' right
Teachin' the hood rats what
of the rich man
I've been living this poor – well
I guess for
Forever, and I bet I will forever more
Barely eking by
Seeking out the dollar stores
For
nigga I still ain't scared man
Give a fuck if you Johnny Depp, just know that you a dead man
I ain't never met Lil Durk but all my head see is that red
people
Talk that shit for the working class, man
You a true thug homie
We got your motherfucking back
You can say whatever you want to say
About whatever
Sick of waiting around for one of those days to come by
I could feel my wings melting as I crept up on the sky
ICARUS hit or miss I barely exist
ICARUS
phone
I could hear it in her voice, know she just wasn't alone
Then a voice I didn't recognize
Said, "If you wanna' see your wife alive bring a million
Look out man alive
Fifty-five miles an hour they want us to go on this Interstate
And you go fifty-five and you get run over by a truck so what do you
pissed off
Used to talk to you before you had died, made me a lil' soft
I still cry to my mama like a lil' baby, but I'm a big dog
Hundred fifty mill'
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