Lyrics:
thangs
I slang weed, cocaine and hero ayn
50 Cent that's my name
Nigga I bring the pain you thought
Shit stay the same nigga shit gon' change
Put a bullet
And it alternates whose turn it is and if you lose you drink."
They said "Man, you really make us think,
Yeah you make us think and so
Tonight we're
if we don't we're gonna blow a 50-amp fuse"
You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you
womb
Real nigga shit motherfucker, I'm tuned, and I was taught
If a man talk about another man while that man ain't present
A man don't listen
They
If you could fill a veil with shells from Killiney's shore
And sweet talk in a tongue that is no more
And if wishful thoughts could bridge The Gulf
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
guns too
It's not to be a racist, but let's face this
Wouldn't you if we could trade places?
I got lynched by some crooked cops and to this day
Them
do
What vengeance is and who vengeance belongs to
He wasn't tryna hear that ***
He just turned up the volume, bangin' 50 Cent
Tension is so thick,
rapper tryin' to mimic him
And that's what really rose up out of Michigan,
The sign of white rapper by the name of 50 Cent, ha!
You would never know
wicked
You don't like the face of the original man
But you gotta treat me like an individual man
Talk right and I'll talk right back
Show some goddamn
(50)
This rap game, this rap game (yeah)
I ain't sellin' my soul for this rap game
And I ain't diggin' no hole for this rap game
Man, I'm tellin'
(50)
This rap game, this rap game (yeah)
I ain't sellin' my soul for this rap game
And I ain't diggin' no hole for this rap game
Man, I'm tellin'
wishin' we could bring them
Back with songs like dis
Old flicks on us chillin' wit
Da old time clique
Holdin' nines, thoughts of death
Not our lives we risk
diamonds all over my Franck Muller
Me I get busy, I put that work in if it's worth it
Come through hit you up, I'll make a crime scene perfect
Niggas talk
her fucking body pop
I tell ha Fifty cents a wop make her wop wop wop wop
Fuck the world giving her back shots sticking my thumb in
I talk shit and I
Could have been me, could have
Been that nigga Fifty
Don't beef with the 60 you get
Shot down in cold blood
Ask the nigga Nipsey, know he
Got some dead
pissed off
Used to talk to you before you had died, made me a lil' soft
I still cry to my mama like a lil' baby, but I'm a big dog
Hundred fifty mill'
or the Cuban cigar
Tryin to expand the brand so
He could see more
Everybody love him from the Crips
To the B dogs leave niggas for dead
Let 'em have a bleed off
and the dick hard
Now, if you with me
Pour a glass and drink with a nigga, you know what I mean?
I ain't tryna turn you all niggas into alcohols, alcoholics
Smirnoff, baby)
We not drinkin' the Smirnoff tonight (Not tonight, why'all chill!)
None of that shit, man (Grimey ass niggas!)
Put the 50 cent beer away
barrel by, too gun shy to hitch a ride
Got two quarters and a dime, cup of coffee costs a buck
Fifty cents to place a call, payphone's ripped right out
hands
Just did a stick-up, just got picked up
One dead punk, killed by the man
New York New York big city of dreams
And everything in New York
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
to death
We need Him crucified
It's all you have to do
Talk to me, Jesus Christ
You have been brought here
Manacled, beaten by Your own people
Do You have
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