Lyrics:
You hit my line like bea I'm ready to ride
I guess ill give you a try
I replied I'm just a street away
And then I text you I'm finna come drive by
wit many, Niggaz be switching they so 50/50 so I got the semi (Bloouu) Top of the hill by the ossay, Traffic come in and out both ways, Got it all off
a hopeless streetlight
Seems like you're lucky if it ever change from red to green
I was born in an abundance of inherited sadness
And .50 cent picture
and
Amputated his shootin' arm
Now that's a stretch, Ab-Soul
Like the fifty-mile strip when
I'm pimpin' these hoes
Call me Dolemite, no, I take that back
I wish
first time in jail nigga gone need some friends
By the way youngster what's your name
You can call me killer on the streets its the dopeman
a Stray hand and now my teeth is gapping
That's the sense getting knocked back in me
We asked for a quarterback and he gave back fifty
I'm coming at you
Icey boys, and we still tote Uzis
It's about money, it ain't never 'bout music
Yeah, he from the streets
But he still ain't Gucci
Hunnid bottles
fuckin fifty deep
But they be fuckin cowards when they by theyselves
You know who I'm talkin about
(You know who I'm talkin about) that's right
You ain't
fifty deep
But they be fuckin' cowards when they by they selves
You know who I'm talkin' about
(You know who I'm talkin' about)
That's right, you
you see I'm not here to play
I'm a corner store guy I buy them 50 cent candy
But I'll still stain some top counter brandy
Another one another time
fucking make me sick
All I know when I catch a opp I'ma hit him in his shit
Leave shot nine times, it like 50 cent I don't beef with none of these niggas
up 50 Cent to make a Show about your life
Remember they stole your Daytons, you got em back the next Night
Separate us from them other Niggas, it's
and imma say it to yo face again
Make a song with 50 cent and call it many men
Have praise for a nigga in the red now
Cuz I'm the king and imma say it till
mixed with 50 Cent
Bitch, she broke, but these bars is 'bouta pay my rent
Life be like a photo
Hoes I know though
One from Soho
One go loco
One go stupid
step dad's a step off
Green cards for street cars
My momma didn't even switched her name back
Last name wasn't even worth jack
Talking bout giving all
we're rough in it
When you're sweet
In the street
And I fall for it
Make me feel I can't keep up
Before you take a hint
And you say that you'll change
don't sleep
Put 50 cents in your commisary, reach you next week
The streets still in a shangle, since we last broke bread
And Baby Ra got left, O.T. two
King of Kings und ich schreibe mein Text auf den Beat. Yeah
Sonny Black, jo, back on the streets,
Guck', die kleinen Hänger rauchen Backstage das Weed.
INSPIRATIONS NA KENDRICK, LIL WAYNE… WHEN HIM BEEN DEY HOT THAT YEAR, 50cent THEN NAIJA PEOPLE LIKE SAUCE KID, 2BABA BURNA BOY
I BE RAW EVOLVED ENERGY PLAYING
Street IPA, Trader Joses, still no cans
Hey Joe, I’m still a fan of two dollar salad bags
Killer mixes romaine and spinach, salads ridic delicious
Lunch
Uh
Oh yeah
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah
Oh yeah
Oh yeah, uh
They say ty your music hard how you made that
I ain't even know you rapped you so laid back
Ima rap
Christmas
But until you know I be on grinch shit
Living isolated probably plotting on a victim
Fuck you and your gifts bitch
I got 50 cents left
Imma die
to the wind trying to know down these pins
He'll keep swinging from the hair above his chin
Till he finds his soul in the fifty cent bin
The price
go out like the last bitch!
Heh, five-oh's on my ass main
They know me by the face, but they don't know my last name
Now I'm back on the case
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