Lyrics:
to the basics and break it all the way all the way down
You can hate it but face it B.I.G. and 2Pac just ain't around
Everywhere you go, there I go, I'm 50 Cent
cracker a day (what? Oh shit)
Girl, well, I heard the bitch was married to Tim
And started fucking with Trina
Well, I heard the bitch got hit by three
took they guns and they cash
Came by the bar, nigga rollin' in they squad car
Blue and red lights flashin' like a superstar
I just shook my head
ain't speaking
Game and 50 Cent beefing
Then Cease got Lil' Kim knocked
I'm hearing all this from the jail
While I'm sitting in my cell
And I'm
fifty cents
No phone, no pool, no pets, I ain't got no cigarettes
Ah, but, two hours of pushin' broom
Buys an eight by twelve four-bit room
I'm a man
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
fifty cent, in a bad predicament
The gon' bust your head by them dead green presidents
Wipin' down the evidence, shooters at my residence
All this
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
an eight by 12 four-bit room
I'm a man of means, by no means
King of the road
Trailer for sale or rent
Rooms to let, 50 cents
No phone, no pool, no pets
I
"take your clothes off!"
Ayo, the Devil planted fear inside the black babies
Fifty cent sodas in the hood, they going crazy
Dead meat placed
jajaja
T-pain
Victor "el nasi", "nesty"
W yandel
En conexión con 50 cent
Y todavía se atreven decir que son los numero uno jajaja
Seguimos
lose
Pay my dues ice Cube is with me
We quite nifty ballers making history
By being quick as 50
You ballers, with daisy champ baby
What's your thing
They
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
buys an
Eight by twelve four bedroom, I'm a
A man of mean by no means
King of the road
Trailers for sale or rent
Rooms to let, fifty cents
No phone, no
"take your clothes off!"
Ayo, the Devil planted fear inside the black babies
Fifty cent sodas in the hood, they going crazy
Dead meat placed
And I take great pleasure in introducing, 50 Cent
It's bottle after bottle
The money ain't a thing when you party with me
It's what we into, it's
a fifty-fifty split with a guy from the upstairs
Oh yeah, I can see the things no-one can see
I can read from your lips you don't like me…
I cheat the common
as a light tan
With plastic faces and rubber hands
Fuck fame, I shoot a hole in a 50 cent piece to test my aim
How dare you call the Gods in vain
Not
as a light tan
With plastic faces and rubber hands
Fuck fame, I shoot a hole in a 50 cent piece to test my aim
How dare you call the Gods in vain
Not
nigga (haha, haha)
You gotta love it, New York City (haha)
[ Chorus - 50 Cent singing ]
I been doin' my own thang
You can tell by the stones on my neck,
weighs eighteen stone
(That's two hundreds fifty six pounds)
I don't mind her fat but,
It's not only that but,
She's cockeyed and muscle-bound, Molly
made
Into brown gravy for supper Sunday
They got 50 pound bags of chicken nuggets
They got yummy yogurt by the bucket.
Shelves and shelves
Bruder, sag ma' ehrlich, wer will keinen dicken Benz?
Veysel schreibt die Hooks besser als 50 Cent
Bruder, sag ma' ehrlich, wer will keinen dicken
work on my Mac
When shit got iffy, Eve held me down, that premium patience (I love you baby)
Went from 50 fans to talking to Roc Nation (What up Jay)
Discuss these superstar 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