Lyrics:
men, get rich or die like I'm 50 Cent
Remember when life was the simplest, back when I didn't have fifty cent
Sober now, I'm takin' Yoga classes
I'm
50 Cent I'm makin hits now
Don't try an act like you ain't heard I'm the shit now
Some bitches changed, cause they know I'm fittin to blow
You should
Yeah, this big Bun B the baby southern OG
I'm Pimp C's brother every body knows me
Comin' from that P.A.T, with Mr. V.I.C.
Young Mogul, ENT.
If you
Trailers for sale or rent,
Rooms to let 50 cents,
No phone, no pool, no pets,
Ain't got no cigarettes, ah but
Two hours of pushing broom
Buys
Trailer for sale or rent
Rooms to let, fifty cents.
No phone, no pool, no pets
I ain't got no cigarettes
Ah, but, two hours of pushin' broom
a good connect for you, okay, okay
(50 Cent)
Look bitch he can't treat you the way I do
Now lay back, Maybach '62, okay, okay
I got a bunch of paper I
[Chorus]
Back Back Back Back gimme 50 feet
Or I'ma grab the gat and hit a nigga with the heat
Back Back Back Back gimme 50 feet
Don't try to gimme
California where us youngstas slang that cocaine
and we be hoppin it up and choppin it up and rockin it up
to tens twenties fifties and hundreds
hard on these stank hoes
What the pimp of C.M.R do to them be so cold
I'm still taxing these wanna be bitch niggas
I sell the coke by the pound
then a 100 percent
Flipping this cash, flipping every single cent
I can turn a nickel into 50 cent
I'ma get rich or die tryin' like 50 Cent
Gosh man, I
Whip it up
Whip it up
Whip it up
Nasty!
Cook it up
Cook it up
Cook it up
Classy!
I just do too much
I'm just getting rich
50 in the trunk
50
Aye
Aye
Bow bow
What it do Nate
You ready? (Yeah)
Alright hold up hold up hold up think we got one there
(Aye) Twenties and fifties and hundreds
We
boy in his stripped-down Model A
He says, "Gimme 50 cents worth of regular
Check, my oil too, if you don't mind
Put some air in my tires, won't you
Yeah I just need like 50 plans
Spent my last like 50 cents
I window shopped like 50 cent
That bitch she right
Ray Bandz on my face I got
Hurry, hurry, step right up
See the sideshow in town for only fifty cents
Step right up, hurry, hurry before the show begins, my friends
Stand
in New York City fifty cents elsewhere
It makes no goddamn sense at all
America's oldest continuously published daily piece of bullshit
Flavor Flav
Yeah, this the Shady Records mixtape (yeah)
Invasion, mixed by the Evil Genius (50 Cent, Lloyd Banks, Tony Yayo)
G-Unit
This rap shit plays
fifty feet, betta back tha fuck up
Me and Juan Gotti smashin' outta T-town
Lookin' low G gotta fool beat down
Step in the club like it ain't no thang
my high breakin' rules
You got ya P's mixed up
You ain't no pimp
You's a forty
I spit for major mix
While you make tapes for ya homie
cackling is like
Y'all sucking nigga's dick no homo promo
But y'all suckas acting like a bitch
I fell off and came up again, I am 50 Cent
I know you don't
Have you ever seen fifty thousand strong with their hands in the air
Up and down like hell, yeah
So fresh, so fly, so sweet, so polite
So much, too
of followers the same
Fifthteen cent
Thinking colossal shit negative
Fifthteen cent
But get rich or die trying
Thats word to fifty cent
See my girl said it's
Money, cash, coins and bills
Now listen closely and
Bring your math skills
You can tell by their size
And by their decoration
Just how much they're
your bitches, shack your bitches
I pimps up, smack my bitches
You want to fuck trick your bitches
I duck flip my bitches, get that cash with that
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