Lyrics:
this hustla with street knowledge
9 to 5
Still fliping twenties on the side
Try to get by the feints
I'm making dollars out of fifty cents
Got
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 handle my
We stackin 1s 5s 10s 20s 50s n 100s
1s 5s 10s 20s 50s n 100s
We stackin 1s 5s 10s 20s 50s n 100s
I'm infatuated wit the game I can't I love it
From
Making somethin' outta nothing
Because everybody fifty cents
From a quarter
Where I come from
Yeah
The streets ain't timid
But I feel at home in it
[Master P talking]
G man, why don't you go on, pass the dank
Let's take a lil' break ya know whatb I'm sayin'
Before we finish this album up
history of hip-hop
From way way back
(His martha gupa's?) Hip-Hop Father
Charlie Ahern Wild Style
And 50 Cent's Fifty and More
I used to read this to my
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
Things picking up fast
Confessions just posted can't wait for my incoming 50-cent check
Lately inspiration been nonstop
I'm a kid in a candy shop
Don't
Same way you make cyanide, same way you make amaretto.
Hip-hop's in the street, now were all busting
50 Cent's on MTV, now it's cool to carry metal
die trying
By any means like 50 Cent
Try to rob me he a idiot
Smoke a big nigga on some skinny shit
Hop out the car or stay in that bitch
Either way do
so allow me, hand me ya coats
Bentley Farnsworth, I'll check him proudly
We got D-Block, Wu-Tang, Jay-Z and Nas
Also performing 50 Cent, Terror
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
like Ross (Ugh)
550 Benz four doors
Praying for my niggas, they lost
Dyin' on things, they wolves
Ridin' on a gang that floss
Multiplyin by the gang
but somehow I got by
Creflo pray Mike Vick payed bobby brown stray Whitney lost weight
Kimbo Slice on the pad when I write
That Mayweather money
Yea yea
Big racks
I am Mr Racks the album
I just pullin up in a mudufuckin 'Rari
Twelve chains on me i aint even saying sorry
All the bitches love me
Damn, I'm bout to sin again
Feeling like LeBron James
Damn, I'm bout to win again
Feel like 50 cent
Because I'm hated by so Many Men
We used to be cool
a Trump
Mad about government checks
My album sold more than drip
My album sold more than sauce
My album never sold out
50 million dollars for a show now
that blicky rip
You ain't go get rich or die trying like fifty cent
I'm sticky fingers with the money yea every cent
I ain't gon say shit you the type
Now fifty years down the line, we gon' all look back
And say that hip-hop, in 1995 was wack
But then we gots it back on tracks
And by the year
go depend on somebody
Nobody holy pass
Your best friend fit turn ur enemy
I no be 50 cent
But many men still wishing death on me eh
Abere a nlo ko ná
family good some days, yeah
Remember havin' 50 cent to my name for lunch
A quarter juice and some hot flames
We was sittin' on the couch watchin' He
lika gatherin
So dont be playn with me
Uan got no sense (cents)
Uan tough you jus playn fifty
Nigga im the one
Fuck a two
Understand nigga
Gon
Yeah' like Mr Windle
Shit, they tell me that I'm
Spitting like an old fool
These little kids think 50-Cent is old-school
They try to question my
vrea sa ma futa fiindca am abdomen
Am abdomen seman cu 50 Cent
Am lasat-o in seen ti-e frica sa ii dai send
Ey ai anxietate sociala
Am intrat in ea
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