Lyrics:
100s on 50s on 50s on 100s
I pullin’ up, know you bitches don’t want it
Up in this club like we own it
See you in there actin’ phony
Tell your bitch
[50 Cent]
Disrespectful
Anything, I let you breathe
Now you're dead
[Chorus: 50 Cent]
There's no room without casualties
End up in a wake
[50 Cent:]
Yeeh...
I'm'a Soldier, I Done Told Ya, Don't Make Me Fuck You Up
Leave You Head Bust, I'm'a Head Busta, Man I Don't Give A Fuck
I'm'a
somethin' man, your ass is grown
Drug dealin' just to get by
Stackin' money 'til it get sky high
(Kids, sing, kids, sing)
We wasn't supposed to make it
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
shit, it was ninety-nine cents (bag it)
Coppin' it, washin' it, 'bout to go and get some compliments
Passin' up on those moccasins someone else has been
them up in a pot
Its Big and some pac n you mix em up and you got, juggernaughts of this rap shit, like it or not
(50 Cent verse)
I got a gambling
ball killin' shit
Realist shit and your main wife dig me
Game try and hit me
Kick game like 50 cent
Niggas wanna play games I quickly
Mob with
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
hot
For me me me baby by by by ooh
Girl your not the same, your in love with t-pain
And I cant play this game anymore I wanna keep on jumping around
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
the roof
He landed on Mercer by Versace
Last time they see me I'll
Be shootin' out the Masi
Gucci tearaway suit's, Jesus
Make two bricks out of one
Wipe your
shit, it was ninety-nine cents (bag it)
Coppin' it, washin' it, 'bout to go and get some compliments
Passin' up on those moccasins someone else has been
It's 50 Cent starring as Game
It's autobiographical
I hope you enjoy yourself
50 callin me crazy, I might be just maybe
I'm gangsta, I'm crippin', Damu,
of the ring
The gods don't mingle with the mortals
Peasants ain't sittin' with the kings
Goliath ain't worried 'bout your sling
And Cassius ain't bothered by
ak-filled
Get your mouth blown off like
The hand that feeds you
Yeah little motherfucker put the
Hammer in diesel
G-Unit Game Over this is only a preview
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
We'll go ahead, do your best and find me
Matter of fact, I'll be at your mom's by nine and we'll be fuckin' all night
Disregard the rubber
I'ma pull out
New York City (New York City)
You are now rackin' with 50 Cent
(with 50 Cent) are you ready?
(are you ready?
Gun cocks) I said are you ready?
(are
If these niggas be outside trust they gettin' hit
Keep it 100 with u pop your ass for 50 cent
I'm tryna shake up on da game remember 50 cent
All
somethin' man, your ass is grown
Drug dealin' just to get by
Stackin' money 'til it get sky high
(Kids, sing, kids, sing)
We wasn't supposed to make it
gotta die, I'd rather homicide
I ain't have fifty cent when my grandmama died
Now I'm goin' back to Cali with my Jacob on, see how time fly?
Hate it
and shifty, quickly call Swifty
To do a drive-by on the tenth speed with 50
Ya feelin' lucky? Squeeze
I catch you outside of Chuck E. Cheese
With your seed,
and shifty, quickly call Swifty
To do a drive-by on the tenth speed with 50
Ya feelin' lucky? Squeeze
I catch you outside of Chuck E. Cheese
With your seed,
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