Lyrics:
Yo Redd Spyder (ooh-wee)
Is that 50 Cent/Pac joint ready?
Let me know, holla
There's gon' be some stuff you gon' see
That's gon' make it hard
Who put fifty tons of shit on the Foreign Office roof?
Who suffers from nine known diseases?
Who gets up in the morning when the sun comes up
""The 50th Law"" is a book co-authored by Robert Greene and rapper Curtis ""50 Cent"" Jackson. Published in 2009, this book combines Greene's
When he turned 34 but who's counting
He couldn't find anyone who wanted to party
So he walked around a playground with a bag of Mickey's Tallboys
Johnny Ryall is the bum on my stoop
I gave him fifty cents to buy some soup
He knows the time with the fresh Gucci watch
He's even more over than
in line, get your tickets, I hope you will attend
It'll only cost you fifty cents to see
What life has done to those like you and me
See the man
Khaki's and them Tim's, and them niggas with the platinum mouths
Thinkin' that they blessed by the actions that be comin' out
When you in Magic City, you be
Who started ladies night, man
Giving them pass with fifty cent drinks
Have they lost their mind?
Once you start something
You know its hard to stop
Yeah (wha-, yeah, yeah, yeah)
It's 50 Cent (wha-) and S-N-double-O-P (wha-wha-wha-what?)
You don't want it with Snoop and you don't want it with me
with me
And your man Fifty put your money on me
King Mathers made me to blow up
Re-Up I'll crush that you know Cash up Shady!
[Chorus - Eminem]
See us
for rent
I got clowns in my mix, but I'm finna send a blitz
I be tryna go legit, get rich or die like 50 Cent
I was 'bout to back up out it, then
Yeah (wha-, yeah, yeah, yeah)
It's 50 Cent (wha-) and S-N-double-O-P (wha-wha-wha-what?)
You don't want it with Snoop and you don't want it with me
Aw nigga don't trip, you gon' get your monkey-ass hit
Runnin your lip, tryin to fuck with my clique
Aw nigga don't trip, in case you didn't know who
forever (my bitch forever)
No matter what happen, I'ma rep the clique forever (I am)
Them three letters (CMG)
Them three letters
When you locked in with
Ludacris, ya boy was doin' this
Before Snoop Dogg, I put rabbits in the morgue
Before Dr. Dre, I was out in L.A.
Before 50 Cent, I was sittin' on Enz
When
the Range, I'm into nice thangs
I slang weed, cocaine and heroine
50 Cent, that's my name, nigga I bring the pain
You thought shit stay the same, nigga shit
you go inside just to realize
Either you're weak or someone lied
See, you spend more time boasting about
What you do than you do
So by the time your
know who you wanna spend
The rest of your life with, you wanna start
The rest of your life
As soon as you can
That state trooper let me off with
Lil Jon with the beat (jeah!) and now them hoes want to call ya
I ain't Michael Jackson the P won't quit
I'd rather be judged by 12 than carried by 6
the goons 'round me
And yeah I rep my city, bitch
I'm from Dade County
[Flo-Rida]
Ayy!
Don't you for I really get 'em up throw 'em up, who ya wanna be?
You say you love your husband. Why do you do the things you do?
He slave for you night and day. He brings home every cent he gets paid.
And you say
the way I spit that?
That got these high-class hoes wanna come and chit-chat
Split the paper 50/50? Yeah I'm with that
But when I rob yo' ass you can't
about me
Niggaz know, ain't nothing sweet about me
Get back to questions, like "50, who shot ya?...
You think it was Preme, Freeze or Tah, Tah?"
Nigga,
cards, I will fold him with the poker
You and your whole crew are like a deck of 54
So it's obvious y'all gon' steady be rolling with some jokers
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