Lyrics:
ribs like, oh, child
Taking you to lunch, what you gonna do'
She said, "I'm picking up the check and
Handing it to you", fine and witty, oh, so
poppin' a clip, 'bout to fix this issue (woo)
You pray that I don't hit, I ain't equipped to miss you (no)
You're gonna need an ambulance to stitch your
please stand up?
We're gonna have a problem here
Y'all act like you never seen a white person before
Jaws all on the floor like Pam like Tommy just
fuckin' mouth
Before I pull out and bust slugs in yo ass
You lucky yo bitch here, that's why I'm givin' you a pass
Nigga haul ass before I up and blast
motherfuckin die, hope yo' ass fry, don't ask why
But I let off everything I have
An empty clip, hit the ground as a nigga dash
On my ass was the motherfuckin
to the room
Shower up and then we hit the club
Touchdown, gotta see what's up
Area code in my phone
What numbers do I still have?
Who do I know from
Love is gonna sneak right up and snuff you from behind
So I want you to check the story out
As we go down the line
(Let us move on)
Money's
Gardena to Gardere, Louisiana (woo)
We was at Louisiana, came up off them snack packs
50 cent for Shastas, itchy blop up in the backpack
Little Caesar
to get fucked up
(Get high nigga, hold on, we smoking for)
Til' the day I die nigga, west side nigga, smoking chocolate thai nigga
Can't hit my
to me)
Just hit the spot
Gonna get my girls, get your boys
Gonna make some noise
Gonna get rowdy
Gonna get a little unruly
Get it fired up in
Boys
Slip up my whole click rides, get shot, boy
That's how it go, we straight do or die, we checkmate holdin' niggas
Then come where yo' mama lay
New York City
You are now rocking, with 50 Cent
You gotta love it
I just wanna chill and twist the lah
Catch stunts in my 7-45
You drive me
We grind ya'll
Bounce back, open your mind ya'll
Grind your whole ass till you twist your waistline
Ya'll know the time
Hey yo feel the base line
chicks and get some digit's
And the DJ's playing them hit's
"Oh, this my jam! This my shit!
We don't know a word to a verse
All we know is the chorus
niggas better hope we never hit rock
'Cause then we gonna run up in your spot
Screamin' get the fuck on the floor, give us the ro'
Aiyyo, aiyyo,
it
He said, "Who snitched?"
CHORUS
Yo, how did he go out?
He went out like a bitch!
So ladies
We ain't just talkin' bout you
Cause some of you niggas
be your last warning once you walk past the doorman
Ali and Foreman gonna lock ass until the morning
Marvellous finances provided by Joseph Mobutu
they math
Bitches ain't half cut up crack up in the stash
50 Cent Italian, icy flow
This is that Run-and-Get-a-Dollar-for-The-Ice-Cream-Cone
Cause they
the house and had a seat
The little boy put fifty motherfuckin' toys by my feet
Smashin' up my ankles with Tonka jeeps
I wish this little motherfucker'd
We grind ya'll
Bounce back, open your mind ya'll
Grind your whole ass till you twist your waistline
Ya'll know the time
Hey yo feel the base line
send flowers
Goddamn sherrif, can't wait to tarriff
A chunk of a nigga ass, but watch a nigga blast
And get away nigga fast
You ain't gonna have me
Yo another day
Another forty nine cents
Mr., Mr., why you always tryin' to take all our money
Because I am the government
And you have to pay
like it's legal
A nigga move around with the Eagle
I go off! We say you get
It if we don't believe you
This is 50 Cent and Beanie Sigel, I go off
Big
and hidin
is you gonna start your slippin and slidin
man I thought you had this game in a snag
How do it feel with real niggas in your ass
Listen Mr.
Discuss these we gonna hit yo ass up by 50 cent Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In